<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Afternoon train by WhiteSheep</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578784">Afternoon train</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteSheep/pseuds/WhiteSheep'>WhiteSheep</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Car Sex, Clothed Sex, Cock Tease, Come as Lube, Condoms, Cousin Incest, Dry Humping, Dry Orgasm, Dry Sex, Fear of Discovery, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Large Cock, Library Sex, Loss of Virginity, Lube, M/M, Movie Theater Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Older Man/Younger Man, Prostate Massage, Prostate Milking, Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Public Sex, Public Transportation, Rape Fantasy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Self-Denial, Sex Addiction, Spit As Lube, Stalking, Thighfucking, Train Sex, Underage Rape/Non-con, mind breaking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:13:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,277</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578784</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteSheep/pseuds/WhiteSheep</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn´t really notice the person moving behind him, more than used to the occasional touch on unfortunate places after years using public transportations.</p><p>So although the brush against his ass springs him back from his distraction, it´s not alarming by itself. He simply shifts a bit forward, imagining it´s someone adjusting in the cramped space. The touch goes away and he turns his attention back to the window.</p><p>Then— again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1684</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. train</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaim: This is a work of fiction meant only to entertain. The author does not condone any form of break of consent/rape, nor any thoughts expressed here reflect the author´s opinions/beliefs.</p><p>Disclaim 2: PLEASE do not use this or any of my other stories as an example of what real and healthy sex is/should be (let's keep in mind that condoms are not <i>just</i> to prevent pregnancy. And if you're planning to stick something somewhere or let someone stick something in you, LUBE is your absolutely BEST FRIEND. Dry sex is only fun in theory!) and even LESS of what a healthy, nontoxic relationship is/should be.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The signal sounds a few seconds after the train stops and the doors open to allow passage for the avalanche of people waiting on the platform, and the wagon becomes constricted as those already on board move to make space, elbows poking ribs and feet hitting heels, searching for space where there isn´t any more.</p><p>Surrounded from all sides to the right of the last door, Leo shifts uncomfortably. Holding his backpack against his stomach with one hand with the other curled around a bar, he´s vividly aware of the wall of people around him and how most of them are at least half a head taller than him. The consequence is that the artificial yellowish light hardly reaches him, struggling to pass by the shoulders and heads above his eye level. The young teenager exhales and adjusts his position again, eyes hovering over the subway map hanging on the side of the door – the only form of entertainment he has at the moment since he prefers not to whip out his cell phone here. And reading a book is impossible, considering not only the poor light but also the fact that much of the next trip is through tunnels that tend to shroud the carriages in darkness.</p><p>Forty-five minutes mediated by stretches of light and heavy dimness. The teenager slumps a bit more, already resigned to the boring travel ahead of him.</p><p>The signal sounds again.</p><p>The doors close.</p><p>The ground shudders slightly as the gears move and the train begins to move, launching the passengers into a gentle sway. No one seems to notice this, heads hanging over their electronics and ears covered with headphones, avidly discouraging any human interaction.</p><p>Another late afternoon in the big city.</p><p>Leo is watching the scenic transition through the glass door, visible between the two people in front of him. His thoughts slumber around his already sluggish brain, and Leo is ready to doze off on his feet. He doesn´t really notice the person moving behind him, more than used to the occasional touch in unfortunate places after years using public transportations.</p><p>So, although the brush against his ass springs him back from his distraction, it´s not alarming by itself. He simply shifts a bit forward, imagining it´s someone adjusting in the cramped space. The touch goes away and he turns his attention back to the window.</p><p>Then— again.</p><p>A press against a cheek, more solid than before and Leo startles. He´s about to move again when it shifts- digs in five points and the teenager freezes at the realization it´s a <em>hand</em>. Someone´s hand. It squeezes- gropes the soft flesh rather greedily, pulling and rubbing up and down. His insides knot themselves as a cold chill courses through his body and he tries to squirm away, but there´s not a lot of space ahead. A single, small step and he´s almost on top of the person ahead, nose brushing against their back. It doesn´t work. The touch follows him, hand rolling the cheek against its palm and he swallows through a throat clamped shut, eyes wide with shock.</p><p>T-this is really happening. Someone is… groping him in the train. He reads about it sometimes in the news but outside an obligatory, distant feeling of revulsion and pity, he never really thought about the <em>reality</em> of it. That this is something that does happen, on a daily basis, to a lot of people.</p><p>He never thought of it happening to <em>him</em>.</p><p>Not just because he´s a guy but— it´s just—… Leo i-is not the type that attracts the eye. Falling more to the plump side, with thick, round glasses and so many freckles that they went past cute straight to ‘some form of untreated hyperpigmentation’. With hair that can´t seem to decide if it´s wavy or curled and stays instead in a hybrid middle. People don´t look twice at him. They don´t go out of their way to say hello and get close and all that. Never even had anyone hit on him. And he <em>hates</em> this part of himself that uses the lack of- of… <em>harassment</em> as evidence of his lack of looks. That makes him feel minor when he´s the only one among his friends without tales about unwanted attention.</p><p>Hates the part of him that wants to turn and ask: ‘<em>me? Really?</em>’</p><p>The hand moves, feeling up both cheeks slowly. Leo attempts to evade it again, discreet, his grip tightening on the backpack— but once again it´s useless. The person is right behind him, he realizes, and doesn´t seem interested in stopping. They press into his crack, two fingers sinking as much as the soft material of his pants allows, which is enough— Leo sucks the air through the nose as he feels them between his cheeks, sliding up and down in a lazy but dogged manner, fingertips pressing right t-there, teasing, stroking.</p><p>The dullness from before evaporates and his heartbeat is loud in his ears. His hand on the bar is sweating. The hand slips even lower and cups the lower arch of his ass, middle and ring finger delving between his thighs and Leo jostles as they press to that patch of skin behind his balls, almost <em>digging</em>. And he´s startled at the way he has to hastily close his mouth, a sound bursting from his throat and filling his mouth, drowned out by the moving train – his vision blurry as they rub hard there and he clamps shut his thighs, desperate for it to stop, terrible noises almost leaking out of him. It´s of no use. He can feel his legs trembling, wanting to soften, those strong fingers moving between them to grind slow, small circles that keep him seeing white spots. W-what is happening?</p><p>Head dipping forward, his face flushes in hot shame and the teenager hurriedly lets the backpack fall from where it was resting against his stomach to in front of his groin, hiding his stiffening bulge. Shivers crawl over his back and his skin is full of goosebumps, way too warm – the air under his neck is stuffy. The stranger forces their hand deeper amid the tense clench of his thighs and Leo stifles a whine as those dexterous fingers stroke his trapped sack, fondling the balls eagerly but unhurried. The tips circle each sphere the best they can through the fabric, massaging and Leo is quivering, knees writhing against one another as he struggles to keep his breathing steady.</p><p>It´s not working.</p><p>He shakily looks around, desperate to see if anyone noticed what´s happening to him. People seem unbothered, however, eyes locked on their screens and indifferent to the world – his stomach swirls. <em>Scream</em>, his most rational part begs, <em>asks for help, do something- anything!</em></p><p>But his mouth doesn´t open.</p><p>He stays frozen on the spot, just shaking. When the hand retreats over the curve of his ass and slips past the waistband of his pants, Leo shuts his eyes, trembling at the feeling of a warm palm sliding over his cheeks, skin on skin. Broad. Solid. He let a faint inhale go as they take hold of him, just… grabbing whole a tense cheek, squeezing in an appreciating manner that makes him feel smaller than ever, no more than a little boy confronted with the heaviness of an adult´s attention. Because it can only belong to an adult, those fingers, greedy and certain in their movements… They trail down again, fingertips brushing over the sensitive skin normally hidden away, making the teenager straighten up with a chest full of air, squeezing the backpack harder against his front. The stranger moves closer, bringing a waft of body heat as they grab the bar above his hand and lean down – they are so much taller.</p><p>Leo shudders with scathing humiliation as his arousal throbs against the backpack, straining the front of his pants. Leo´s breathing snags and he shakes his head again, eyes burning. “S… stop…” he pleads, voice croaking out in less than a whisper. But they ignore him, reaching lower and two fingers are stroking over his taint and Leo´s back is arching whether he wants it to or not, head jostling up as he sets his teeth tight, as he´s so deliberately rubbed down there. Shaking whimpers escape anyway, pouring into his closed mouth, the most terrible, sweetest shocks of pleasure making his toes curl. W-what is this? Why… why it feels this way when… when… Oh, oh, g-god… “… n- no… please—ah…”</p><p>The fingers move back, slow, measured and Leo knows what they are about to do seconds before the soft pad of a finger finds his rim. His eyes snap open and wide and he gapes at the back of the businessman standing in front of him without really seeing it, as the stranger gently traces circles around that ring – caressing the spasming muscles and wrinkles over and over, teasing him open with careful pushes and strokes that leaves him with a tingling, strange sensation… the tip snags in the very center. The gentle circular motion melts into the barest of pressures, sinking slightly. Leo inhales shallow and sharp, whole body tensing, mouth hanging open, and lets it out in tiny, uncontrollable moans as the sole, thick finger pushes into him ever so slowly, breaching past tense muscles in an uncomfortable, alien strain.</p><p>It keeps going until the last knuckle, the shape staggeringly clear and molding his walls, and Leo is shivering, gripping the metal bar in disbelieving stun. It- it´s so l-long… The strangeness of it only grows as the stranger man moves and Leo shuts his eyes, shoulders drawing tight while he´s subjected to the sensation of being caressed on the inside, soft pad exploring him as the hand moves. How can— is t-this really happening? A stranger is- is fingering him in the middle of the train´s wagon! How…? He closes his mouth to swallow, thick saliva sliding down a parched throat when the person steps even closer, enough that he can feel breathing on his hair and the edge of a heavy coat touching his back.</p><p>Another hand slips over his left side and sneaks under his backpack. Leo barely has time to jolt in alarm before there´s the deafening, horrifying sound of his zipper being pulled down and the stomach-dropping feeling of fabric sliding down his hips. He lets go of the metal bar to hastily grab his pants, heart roaring like thunder in his ears and rabbit-fast—he´s about to say something in protest and panic but the finger inside him is corking suddenly, pushing his boxers down with the wrist, and he has to bite his lips to avoid whimpering too loud. An arm wraps around his waist and pulls him against someone´s chest, helping him avoid toppling down with the sway motion of the train.</p><p>They press the front wall of his canal, moving around as if searching for something and Leo is quivering, hands tight around his backpack and pants, helpless to the unwanted examination of his ass. He draws a shaky breath and gathers, for a moment, the courage to glance around—… but just like before, nobody is looking at him. At them. No one… noticed anything.</p><p>Despair and relief flood him at the same time, clashing, and he bites back a sob and stays still as this person molests him, blinking against the burning in his eyes. The finger slides almost smoothly now between his clenching muscles, slicked to some degree, making the subtle texture of its pad softer as it brushes deliberately his spasming walls… He jerks at an abrupt crackle of white and hot that rips through him out of nowhere, gasping, almost letting go of his backpack to grab the man´s arm – not to pull or shove, simply in shock. The hold on his waist rapidly shifts and a hand clasps over his mouth just as a second, more vivid thunderclap of feeling breaks over his spine, in perfect time to muffle the <em>moan</em> that spills out from him, his eyes fluttering closed as the front of his boxers grows damp with a surge of pre. Oh, oh god, w-what… Thoughts crumble, toes curled tight and hard and Leo is crying outright, shivering, the shattering pleasure finally showing its roots in the finger gently stroking inside him, crooked at the second knuckle and pressing and drawing circles, slow, steady firm- oh god, oh g-god oh- oh…</p><p>Leo is panting, shallow and harsh through the nose, sweltering, every limb of his is shaking with shock, brain sizzling in his skull – he <em>doesn´t</em> want to feel any of this, hates it, but the stranger´s finger courses over that same spot, gliding with the natural slick of his ass and he feels like crying with the surges of sickly sweet pleasure. He manages to gather enough of his wits to try and keep from groaning for the whole train wagon to hear, but just barely, struggling to control his expression as he gazes unseeing at the person in front of him, back arching and quivering at each tender stroke inside him. It hits him how <em>hard</em> he is, throbbing and aching at each touch, straining against the hand holding his pants in place. His boxers are <em>soaked</em>, hugging his thighs and dripping trails down his skin, the dampness seeping even to the fabric of the pants, and Leo is certain, if he were to look, there´d be a darker spot right between his thighs where the head is tucked. Leaking. Drooling continuously.</p><p>He burns in shame as well as in arousal.</p><p>Leo almost thinks he can hear a subtle slurp under the roar of the wagon as the stranger fingers him, finger moving in a slow back and forth as it sinks into him with restless, terrible attention. He certainly can hear their breathing getting heavier, his heartbeat like an unsteady hammer – eyes unfocused, he can only shudder as the person pulls back only for a second finger to push alongside the first, digging into the tight clench of his hole. Leo tenses, tries to resist… his defiance is ignored like it doesn´t matter and both fingers sink into his ass in a single motion, that leaves him wanting to whimper at the painful stretch. Wider. Fuller. A bit deeper. Leo swallows a sob at such lewd, disgusting violation of his self, and feeling betrayed by his own body that reacts not to the pain, but the acute pleasure as both fingers <em>rub</em> him, a tender, maddening touch.</p><p>It feels even more intense. Better. And the boy wants to cry, scared of his own responses, shuddering heavily and shaking his head in denial – why is this happening to him? Why him? It was an opportunity, Leo being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or… or perhaps he was chosen? Had been this stranger watching him, just waiting for the chance to do this to him, right in the middle of the train? Or perhaps not just on the train. The image of him being snatched to an alley or a bathroom and pinned to a wall, his pants shoved down as a hand presses over his mouth, fills his mind – and Leo´s throat clamps shut and his hips buck, the rhythmic drags and strokes against that spot on his walls flooding him suddenly, violently, with a forceful heat he'd never imagined. <em>W-what—!</em> Body arching and quivering, his toes splaying in his shoes, Leo´s mouth fall open as his boxers quietly receive their load in spurts of hot liquid, adding to the already damp mess between his thighs. The fingers rocks emphatically, harder and faster while his body clenches tight around them, cock pulsating and throbbing and spilling his orgasm.</p><p>Finally, finally, his climax abates. He drags the air in harshly, barely capable of thinking straight – but the quivering teenager pushes himself into a pose a little closer to a normal passenger’s, blinking, trying to see through the tears and wavering light. He snaps his mouth shut, swallowing thickly. Had he— had he let one of those moans rattling in his head go? He is still trembling with orgasm when the fingers slip out, leaving him with a tingling ache, the abrupt <em>lack</em> of uncomfortable obtrusion so jarring that he´s robbed of a bigger reaction than a gasp and a shudder.</p><p>The person steps back and lets go of him, and Leo sways unsteadily over soft, wobbling knees at the subtle motion of the train. He has to grab the metal bar to avoid toppling to the side and almost drops the backpack, the other hand quickly moving to pulls up his pants and underwear.</p><p>No one is l-looking at him, somehow, so he probably… didn´t… scream.</p><p>Trying not to pant too loudly, and with shaky hands, he fastens his zipper, doing his best to ignore the heat simmering around his neck and the soreness radiating up his back, muscles trembling and squeezing against the odd… emptiness. The thought stings and he´s dizzy and terrified and shaking from an overwhelming orgasm he doesn´t want to think about, he doesn´t want to think about anything. A shame too great to be put into words eats at him and Leo is struggling not to cry already.</p><p>When the next stops arrive, Leo pushes his way through the crowd and out of the doors, acutely aware of the wetness trailing down on the inside of his legs and the stickiness of his pants and underwear. He keeps his backpack pressed on the front and with his head bowed, he runs towards the closest bathroom, his rabbit-fast heartbeat drowning out everything else.</p><p>-</p><p>He waits for at least three trains to pass and gets on the fourth, legs pressed together to hide the damp spot. When he finally arrives at home, almost an hour later than usual, he darts to his bedroom ignoring his family´s worried calls and locks the door behind him.</p><p>He takes a half-hour long shower, where he vigorously washes his pants and boxers after he cleans the uncomfortable stickiness off his skin. And later tells his mother he did it because someone spilled soda on him on the way back – he attempted to dry it on the station´s bathroom and lost the first train and had to wait for the next, emptier one. Which is why he was so late, you see?</p><p>It makes perfect sense.</p><p>“Well, be more careful next time, sweetie.”</p><p>Leo starts a simple laugh but stops as soon as the first sound spills from his mouth, shaky and weak. “I will,” he says, forcing a smile instead.</p><p>His mother gives him a puzzled look but she doesn´t ask and Leo watches her turn and leave his bedroom with the basket of dirty laundry braced on her hip, stomach rolling.</p><p>-</p><p>Leo researches other routes and they all end up being longer, more time-consuming, meandering through stations. Not to mention that he would be forced to walk much more.</p><p>He tries a new one anyway, using the excuse that he heard people were being robbed on his original one to justify it to his parents.</p><p>The first day he stands with his back pressed against the wall, eyes sweeping the crowd in attentive paranoia. With frayed nerves, he almost jumps out of his skin every time someone as much as brushes against him, regardless of <em>where</em> they touch him, which earns him more than one bewildered and/or annoyed look. He flushes, stammering apologizes but keeps his vigil steadfast until he steps out of the wagon.</p><p>The second day goes the same.</p><p>The third as well.</p><p>The fourth.</p><p>By the end of the week, however, he´s relaxing a bit and when Friday rolls out, he manages to step inside the train marginally less high-strung, or as ready to run at the first sign of someone stepping a little too close. He reasons there´s no way that person is <em>looking</em> for him, because why would they? It probably was a matter of… of o-opportunity, that they saw Leo distracted and without means to escape and decided to—… well, a-anyway. It´s not like they are going to hunt through the train stations just to find him, so he could just… take it a bit easier.</p><p>Which is what he does twenty minutes away from his stop, melting from his straight guard and slumping against the wall in a moment of piled exhaustion. He hugs the backpack over his chest, letting the air out slowly, and decides not to open his eyes when the next cluster of people squeezes into the wagon, although he remains aware of all the shifting and little shoves around him as the passengers find their space. He does open them, however, when a presence takes the whole space available in front of him at the same time something brushing against his legs – heart stuttering, Leo glances up at a tall person. A man, most likely, wearing a business suit and holding a large, open book that successfully hides their face from the teenager´s line of view, allowing just a glimpse of dark blond hair neatly combed back.</p><p>The wall on his back suddenly gains a claustrophobic solidness that sends his stomach swooping, and the once again nervous boy tries to move away, feet slipping back until his heels are hitting the wall. But that doesn´t do much and with the people pressed almost shoulder-to-shoulder with him, Leo realizes that he backed himself into a corner. Literally.</p><p>He´s… trapped.</p><p>He breathes in shakily, attempting to control the wave of panic that sweeps him – and almost manages to do it… until he feels a hand grasping the side of his hip.</p><p>All air disappears from his lungs as he freezes.</p><p>Heart thumping suddenly loud, he sees the businessman’s arm moving in front of him, following the slow slide of a palm down his left thigh. With the way the adult is slightly turned to the left, all movement ends up being very, very discreet. Practically… imperceptible… the man trails the insides of his legs and then up and Leo shuts his eyes, shuddering as the hand cups his groin. Warm even through the fabric of his pants, and huge, fingers long and thick, and he tries to shift away again but just like last time, he… he has nowhere to go. No leeway. No space.</p><p>There´s… nothing he can do.</p><p>Squeezing his thighs together, he hugs his school bag harder, quivering under the man´s firm and unwavering touch as he fondles him with the confidence you´d expect from a consensual lover and not someone molesting a meek teenage boy in public. The heel of the hand drags over his length as the fingers stroke him almost gently, going as far as to sink between the trembling press of his legs to rub the head tucked down there, soft pads caressing circles over his balls as well, making them draw up a hint as Leo shivers. He finds himself squirming a hint as the man cradles his sack, thumbing one nut through the clothes with twirling, massaging strokes, giving tender squeezes that send shudders up his belly. The motion almost… appreciative. It reminds Leo of… of that stranger´s touch from five days ago, somehow.</p><p>Is it really the same person? O-or just another random pervert that found their way onto Leo?</p><p>The young man can´t decide which scenario is more frightening.</p><p>Leo whimpers, neck slowly heating when boiling humiliation mixes with a shameful, undesirable lick of arousal as the man draws back his hand, slowly rubbing his trapped length up and down, making him feel the solid weight of that palm against the first throbs. He appears completely unbothered by the obscenity of his actions, seemingly reading his book as if he weren´t the one slowly dragging Leo into an unwanted erection, fingers closing the best they can over the young man, squeezing gingerly as the thumb traces along with the crown of his already half-hard cock. Leo inhales a shuddering breath, biting his lips hard while he watches helplessly over the top of his backpack the subtle shifts of that business man´s arm, the hand out of view as it works steadily.</p><p>Soon enough, Leo is stifling moans and tiny gasps against the school bag, knees squirming together as the full length of his cock is stroked, fully hard and straining its prison of fabric. The hand slips higher then, sneaking under his shirt and splaying open over the little bit of belly he has, the small roll that joins the rest of his pudgy hips – he <em>hates</em> the part of him that shrinks self-conscious, that amidst <em>this</em> finds the space to wiggle in a dash of embarrassment from his lack of shape. <em>Hates</em> even more the flare of feeling at the way the man earnestly strokes him anyway, that… that it´s not uneasiness or repulsion, that fills his cheeks with heat and hitches his breathing when the hand dives smoothly into the front of his pants – that swells a low, quivering moan in his throat, at the first touch of those fingers, dry and warm and long… just… wrapping around him. Pushing down in a lazy manner that makes his toe curl inside his sneakers.</p><p>Thick beads of precum meet him as he delves right up to the head, soft finger pads massaging the aching gland and rubbing the slit, and Leo has to bite the nylon of his backpack, hard, swallowing with difficulty. He brushes lightly curved paths under the very tip, bringing upon the unprepared teenager a splash of pleasure that morphs into a growing flow as the man works on the wet, pre-coated flesh of Leo´s very tip, sending a shudder through the root of him and pushing up a fresh gush— right onto his waiting hand. He circles his hot, throbbing flesh, and then starts a slow slide up and down his length, palm slicked on Leo´s own fluids.</p><p>Leo´s ears seem to grow deaf to anything except his own thundering heartbeat, face buried on his school bag as the stranger gives deliberate, firm strokes, setting the young man groaning and almost betraying a moan. Is… is this how it feels to get a handjob? They always said it feels different when it´s another p-person doing it but… oh, g-god why it feels so— Leo shudders heavily, eyes filling with pressure, and he cannot make himself look around. Cannot bring himself to even raise his head to see if anyone noticed what is being done to him, curling into himself with the vile pleasure making him quiver from head to foot, humiliation from the betrayal of his body even sharper than before – because he should´ve known better, and yet…</p><p>His fingers artfully curl and press around the underside of his cock, dragging across it as if milking the globs of thick pre, that spills and damps his boxers with a now-familiar sensation. A low moan leaks from the depths of his throat as Leo opens his eyes once more, staring unseeing at the man´s arm with his mouth open, tongue brushing the nylon wet with drool. Staying still is a struggle, even though Leo is vividly aware of the other bodies pressed at his sides, the loud rumble of the train and the crowd. "Mn... a-ah…" His hips twitch, wanting to… to thrust against that hand exploring him thoroughly. But Leo doesn´t want to. He- he can´t… he can´t, this is wrong, this is… “ahm…”</p><p>Stroking, following every line, rubbing along every curve, caressing him one moment and squeezing him the next, always delving in effortlessly, with perfect timing, to scoop up every fresh glob of precum and swab it over Leo´s achingly hot flesh, only to spread it thin again ever so slowly. His hands ache from digging in at his school bag, body turning to steel from utter tension as he fights against the quivers to hold himself in place. His balls are… they feel as if they’re <em>churning</em>, and when that broad, powerful hand lowers to cup them, Leo jerks almost violently, a gasp bursting out. The young man has to bite down on his tongue tightly, drawing in his shoulders and pressing his legs hard together, to stop from wailing as two fingers stretch out and dig at that soft patch of skin behind his balls. He almost feels— light-headed, with a wave of vertigo as sweet, white-hot pleasure seeps into him as those fingers rub hard, firm circles, that makes him wanna buck against them. His mind is spinning, and Leo wants- wants to resist, to fight back this terrible delight, but each drag and push send shockwaves through him. He´s toeing the line. The edge.</p><p>And the beautiful, horrible moment comes, the overflowing cup of his denial and refusal tumbling down: Leo tenses, quivering, toes splaying and back arching, a desperate cry muffled on the backpack. He throbs fat and hard, straining the front of his pants as his pleasure rushes out of him in spurts, soaking the clothing between his thighs in a few seconds. His throat works, choking back moans and gasps as those finger pads drag relentlessly, balls clenching over the man´s palm and wrist as they push out his load.</p><p>Suddenly, Leo drags a deep, shattering breath, as the stranger pulls back and grabs his shaft once more and the tide of his orgasm flares up, almost agonizing as he´s firmly pumped, slicked fingers dragging over every inch. Again and again and slow and deliberate until finally, finally… Leo slumps back on the wall, panting, head spinning. Knees soft. Eyes blurred. He, ah... h-he´s just... Leo can feel the thick cum slowly soaking up his boxers and pants, a messy, wet, hot mess mixed by that horrible hand as it gives the last few strokes over him, spreading the heavy slickness before it slips out.</p><p>The teenager watches, quivering, and gulping air as quietly as possible, as the man very nonchalantly shoves the wet hand into the suit pocket, head still turned to the book. He resists the urge to slide down to the floor, feeling the gentle jolts of the rails echoing through his very bones, the space between his thighs tingling with warmth and yet… cold – the chill that drafts over your skin right after someone removes their touch.</p><p>Leo blinks against the tears, unable to bring himself to lift his head enough to look at… at the man. At the people around him.</p><p>He simply stays still, breathing.</p><p>-</p><p>He changes routes again and it works.</p><p>For about a week.</p><p>On the sixth day, at the start of the first tunnel, a tall, broad silhouette in the darkness of the wagon looms over him and Leo has time to feel a scared thud of his heart before he pivots and attempts to run. But he stumbles through the packed crowd for just two or three steps, and then he hits against cold solidness, just as the light flicks bright enough to see for a second: a dirty, scratched window that barely allows one to see the rails stretching on like an infinite trail, disappearing into the large, horizontal pit.</p><p>The tunnel.</p><p>He´s on the back of the last wagon.</p><p>His stomach knots cold just as the lights dim once more and a hand lands on his hip. A body presses against his back, smothering warm and unyielding solid, bracing an arm right above his head while sliding a leg between his knees. He´s enclosed completely. Inescapably. A nose traces the hairline of his temple and the boy swallows, shivering, as the man takes a deep breath as if… smelling him.</p><p>“P… please…” His voice is soft. A whisper. He should be louder. He should push away. Pull those hands off him, because he can´t… he can´t let this keep happening.</p><p>He <em>doesn´t </em>want this.</p><p>So why… why won´t his body react?</p><p>A faint humming answers him, a very low sound almost like a growl – but lacking it´s threatening edge. No. It´s not violence that it implies, with the gentle brush of a mouth on the upcurve of his ear and the hand sliding under his shirt, the palm broad and warm and <em>exactly</em> as Leo remembers it, pushing into the softness of his belly. Squeezing it, motion lazy but with greedy fingers, eager, and just like last time, Leo is helpless to the bloom of heat on his cheeks, the way goosebumps run over his skin. The leg between his shift and a thigh pushes up, firm pressure until the fabric is snug against the young man and then it melts into a slow, wandering rubs. “D… don´t… " he protests, rolling to the tip of his feet to escape the touch but the man simply follows him, pressing harder, and there´s nothing he can do but take it, breathing hiccupping.</p><p>Shaking, Leo glances over the window in front of him. Sheltered from the low, yellow light by the tall man, there´s almost no reflection aside from the dark shadow encircling his own smaller reflection, but the teenager can discern something of the crowd behind them. Stacked like animals in a slaughterhouse, people fill the place but it´s not as crammed like the last times. There´s something of breathing space between each person. Not much but enough that, if someone were to look in their direction, maybe…</p><p>He reaches down with one hand, clutching at his thigh so resolutely rubbing between his, indifferent to his attempts to close his legs. “P-please…” he begs. He needs to put stop to this before someone notices it. “You can´t… do this…”</p><p>Leo can make out blond hair and white skin as the man leans down to nip his earlobe, a tongue darting out to lash at the dip behind it. And a chill rolls up his spine at the confirmation… that it´s the same guy. Is he really s-stalking Leo through the subway? Why? <em>Why</em>? He attempts to formulate a question or, or a protest, but the words are sent rattling inside his mouth, morphing into a meaningless noise that the young man struggles to contain. Toes splaying and curling in turns, quivering under the low tide of pleasure of the incessant, rolling grind of that thigh. He´s getting h-hard, ah, the sewing of his pants almost being etched onto his half-bulge.</p><p>An intimidating tent brushes over a clenched cheek and Leo drops his backpack as he jerks, alarmed. He swallows. The thigh retreats but there´s no time to feel anything except the yawning absence of <em>touch</em>, like a prickle creeping into his flesh, and then both the man´s hands curve over his waist, clasping each side before pulling his hips back—against a huge, hard bulge. Leo´s breath hitches as he widens his eyes, the man shifting and rolling his hips, grinding the cleft between his cheeks through his pants. Heart pounding, the raw shock freezes him, blue-screening his brain for a moment of blissfulness incomprehension… then it digs deeper and he feels it <em>throb</em>, the shape clear and simmering even through the fabric, and Leo is sucking the air sharply, shaking hands curling over the window glass.</p><p>“A-ah…”</p><p>The first two times, the man had just… touched him, basically, and nothing more. T-this is the first time Leo has not only indisputable proof it´s a <em>man</em> doing this to him but also… also that he enjoys this. Of course Leo <em>knew</em>—it´s just never really crystallized in his mind before that someone was g-getting off from molesting him in public.</p><p>That touching might not be all he´ll do.</p><p>Biting his lips, Leo can feel him throbbing, pulling at his waist to grind deeper against him, the movement beginning at the lowest cleavage of his ass and slowly rolling up, again and again. A shaky little whimper leaves him, the heat on his cheeks spreading to his ears and neck until he can feel the pounding of his heart under his scalp. The only d-dick he ever touched before had been his own, and aside from one unfortunate accident in the changing room at school involving two wrestling boys in towels, Leo was also never really made so… <em>aware</em> of another man´s cock. Never this-- vividly. The guy’s hips press tight to his, digging a rough furrow in his pants, and his hands push forward, both of them sliding down. "What...?” He squirms a little as his own bulge is touched but startles, heart lurching, when quick fingers delve into his flyer and tug down his zipper. "Wait, you... w-what are you...!" He chokes out, throat suddenly dry, and pushes away from the window to hastily grab the front of his pants just as the fabric slides down his hips, the back bunching around the top of his thighs.</p><p>The man ignores him, pulling at his underwear until he feels the elastic band slip down the curve of his ass, exposing it completely. Leo swallows a squeal, eyes wide both of panic and fear that immediately shuts tight as those broad, <em>familiar</em> hands caress and then seize his cheeks, a warm breath whispering across his hair – soft with something like… reverence.</p><p>The traitorous coils inside Leo´s chest constrict and a quivering whimper gets caught in his mouth, teeth digging on his lips to hold it back and stop his remaining self-respect from bursting into dust, feeling those powerful fingers sinking in to the tense, yet still soft flesh.  He scoops up each orb and Leo is reminded of the first time two weeks ago, of the way the guy just- just <em>squeezed</em> him in such acquisitive and greedy manner, one that Leo is simply not used to having directed at him – at his body. As if the extra… plumpness, was a source of delight instead of off-putting.</p><p><em>Is he… is he going to finger me again? </em>Curling a shaky grip on the front of his pants and underwear, Leo makes a protesting sound that doesn´t quite amount to real words as he´s spread open, shivering at the gentle coldness of the air touching such a place. Then he hears it—a repeat, yet deafening in a way the first one wasn´t: something unzipping behind him. Leo freezes—then starts to twist, afflicted with a sudden lack of air. <em>He couldn´t really mean to…!</em> A hand splays open on his front, curving over his suddenly heaving ribcage just below the right side of his chest – a somehow comforting gesture, for all that the man pulls Leo back against him as the other hand moves to push one cheek aside. Leo doesn´t <em>feel</em> comforted.</p><p>He grabs the hand on his chest, sneaker squeaking on the floor as he kicks and pants out, intent on struggling for his freedom, damned be that people would see him with his pants down!</p><p>“N-no…!”</p><p>Hot flesh slides between his cheeks, delving down into his rear cleavage as a faint sigh pours over the back of his head. Leo stops, struck silent as his eyes widen to disks. The man let his cheek go and grips his hip, grinding up slowly and Leo almost gasps, because a thick, impossible <em>hot</em> cock drags across his crack and over his quivering hole, leaking pre over his skin. It molds his cheeks—he can feel them pushed wide apart, struggling to hug even half of that girth. The man is groaning under his breath as he shifts them a bit, and the rod slips even lower to sink between the softness of his thighs, rasping over his taint and pressing a strange, wet kiss behind his sack. Shivering heavily, Leo shuts his legs without thinking – and blushes when the stranger moans louder and then pushes deeper, passed his balls to brush a slicked head against the side of his own erection, to finally poke out at the front, forming a bump on his already tented pants.</p><p>Leo bites his lips, staring at it. No… no way. It’s so b-big! And… h-hot. God, it seeps an intense heat into his skin as it pulses, fat, and slow. The teenager swallows and wets his dry lips with a tongue that feels like rubber, a bit uncoordinated inside a mouth that feels tacky. As the guy´s grip on him firms and he draws back a few inches only to push forward again with a lazy roll of the hips, cock slipping between his legs with the friction of skin on skin, Leo´s lips part on their own without any sound. He has to fight to not lean on the window, to not let go of his clothes and grasp the cold glass, his hands curling tight to still the shaking – his body folds a bit forward anyway, as the man pushes against him and sets a sluggish rhythm fucking his thighs, each thrust ending in a rolling grind that shows on the front of his pants, getting damper and damper with not only his pre and sweat. His breathing is heavier, with a hint of groan while it is poured over the shivery skin of the nape of Leo´s neck, whose mouth stills hangs a bit open, letting out soft pants.</p><p>His body feels so… hot. Leo struggles to understand, mind fighting a listless fog that threatens to drown his every rational thought. He… he should have done something before. He should <em>do</em> something now. Put a stop to this before… before… it´s too late? He-- Leo can feel himself swaying gently with the subtle thrusts of the man, head ducked between tightly-drawn shoulders. There´s a striking dissonance between the noise of a fully packed train and the slow, slicked slide of that cock between his thighs. Two realities that don´t—they are both frighteningly clear but… oddly fitting.</p><p>He can´t process that both are happening. At the same time.</p><p>The floor reverberates underneath his feet as the pale, weak lights outside snap past the windows in quick succession. There´s no talk around him. There never is with a wagon carrying taciturn city dwellers that just want to go home and scorn the idea of unnecessary social interactions. But still, it´s far from being noiseless, with the rattle of the rails and wheels muffled by the walls filling the otherwise utter quietness. It´s almost shocking, then, that no one seems to hear the thunderous rustle of clothes and the ear-piercing jingle of a belt as the man thrusts against him – the slippery wet glide of the warm cock between Leo´s thighs and ass cheeks, daubing pre over his taint and balls before rubbing over it… Or maybe someone is seeing. Perhaps the whole train is aware, even watching the obscene encounter taking place in plain view.</p><p>Perhaps they just don´t care.</p><p>Perhaps they think Leo is enjoying this. That he wants this.</p><p>The boy´s grip tightens, his eyes watering, but his feet are braced on the floor with quivering legs pressed snug together against the adult man´s rutting, that push an extra bulge in the front of his pants at each thrust. Leo is starting to pant out, mind-melting. He doesn´t want this but… what else can he do at this point? It´s too late. B-besides, it´s just… touching. It wasn´t like he was planning to- to f-fuck him or anything. Just between his thighs. Practically no worse than the previous groping! Just... touching him... grabbing him... rubbing over his hole with the deepest, most greedy pushes…</p><p>Then the man is abruptly hugging Leo, that tall and broad body curling around him possessively as the low groans cease with a deep inhale of air, hips pushing up tight against the boy´s, cock throbbing fat. With one emphatic grind that threatens to burst the front of his pants, liquid heat spurts over Leo´s cock and he gasps softly, shuddering, as it coats his balls and drips over his thighs, soaking his boxers in an instant. A thick, hot load. A damp spot appears over his groin and steadily grows. He chews on his tongue, closing his eyes for a moment.</p><p>And then the man finishes, letting out a rush of relieved air, the fierce grip on Leo relaxing to less bruising degrees. He rests his head on the boy´s quivering shoulder for just a moment. It seems to demand a great deal of effort from the man to drag his shaft out from between his cheeks, movements slow and unwilling, head smearing that gooey mess over his hole like a farewell kiss and then finally his ass seals closed. Leos pants and whimpers weakly, a few electric little jolts running through the depths of his belly as he feels that warm, slimy mess slide over him as the stranger man neatly slides his pants back up and zips it closed.</p><p>The train slows to a stop and there´s a rush of a moving crowd as people leave the car, which seems to take the man, for there´s a sudden cold breeze on his back. Leo doesn´t look or move, just takes deep, calming breaths, just trying to recover his thoughts from underneath the thundering of his heart. Then, on the next stop, he steps out and darts to the closest bathroom, doing his best to ignore the slick slide of flesh on flesh for all that he can´t control the heat on his cheeks.</p><p>Once inside a stall, though, he quickly opens the fly of his pants and lets it drop to the floor together with his backpack. He stares– at his underwear drenched to a darker color, clinging to his still aching-hard cock. At the thick white drops seeping out of the fabric, drawing trails down his shaking legs.</p><p>The skin between his legs tingle, intense and strange like a sensitive bruise. Almost… as if chafed. Except it doesn´t hurt.</p><p>Instead, it feels…</p><p>Leo shivers heavily, wrenching his thoughts from that path like someone backing a hand from a fire. He swallows and rubs his watery eyes before reaching for the toilet paper.</p><p>He needs to catch the next train.</p><p>-</p><p>Again and again, Leo changes routes. He even attempts mixing them, changing from one path to another in some arbitrary, random station… but the man keeps finding him. Not every day or every week. Leo manages to go days without any trouble most of the time, for all that he gains a sharp paranoia of any touch or any stranger stepping too close too quietly, and starts a habit of changing places inside the wagon mid-travel, despite the ugly glares it earns him. But in the end, inevitably-- like skipping waves in a beach in a foolish hope of avoiding getting wet.</p><p>Sooner or later, he finds him.</p><p>And it´s the same guy.</p><p>Leo does not always see him, with the guy´s fondness of approaching him from behind, and even when he <em>does</em> come from the front, he still somehow manages to do it in a manner that doesn´t allow Leo to see his face clearly. But the teenager starts recognizing him anyway through other details. The glimpses of blond hair precisely combed back with gel. The white skin with a bit of a tan. The expensive-looking suits and heavy winter coats that effortlessly swallows him as well when the man presses close enough.</p><p>The hands – not by their appearance precisely. But by the strength of their fingers while squeezing and shifting his body, how thick they are and how deep they reach while sinking inside him, two at times, sometimes even three despite Leo´s whimpering protests. The sensation of his soft pads brushing his insides or rubbing over his cock, with a few callouses of someone who works with their hands. The warmth of his palm gliding over his skin. By how big and all-compassing they feel. By the broadness of his shoulders when draped over his, and how utterly helpless he feels while wrapped in his arms – tiny and weak and moldable, like clay for the man to enjoy.</p><p>He recognizes his voice, even though the man never says anything. Doesn´t explain himself. Doesn´t answer Leo´s pleading and protests and bargains, just groans his appreciation while fucking his thighs – sometimes between his ass cheeks, throbbing cock rubbing over his hole and painting his skin wet first with pre and then with sizzling cum, uncaring of the damp stains he leaves on Leo´s clothes afterward. It´s a low timbre, baritone, the type you hear in theaters rather than movies – Leo memorizes the way he pants with his mouth closed, the sound never too harsh, and how sometimes he nuzzles his hair almost affectionally. Breaths in deeply as if taking his scent. The way he´ll <em>moan</em>, mouth pressed over the boy´s skin to let the sound seep into his flesh and reverberate over his bones, if he manages to catch Leo by the front – both their cocks barely out of their pants, rubbing together by the eager thrusting of his hips or a hand wrapped around them, Leo´s head tucked under his chin while the boy stifles his own quivering moans in his chest at the slicked slide, so sickly pleasurable.</p><p>He memorizes how <em>hot</em> his cock is, the way it pulsates with a calm heartbeat despite everything and slips against his bare skin, leaking pre and then cum – thick, white <em>cum</em>, that spills over his body and sometimes mixes with Leo´s own unwilling load, yanked out of him with a burst of electricity and heat, an overflow of shame that clashes violently with the shudders of his orgasm. Learns how to swallow his voice and stay perfectly still even while coming hard enough to get dizzy, with how often it happens now with a frequency that is just incomparable to his sole experiences.</p><p>He takes to packing an extra set of clothes when he goes to school every day. A towel too, as well as deodorant to mask the powerful musk that clings on his skin afterward, the sweat and more. He learns very well how to wash cum stains off, both from fabric and his own body – such is his new reality.</p><p>Leo can´t believe it.</p><p>He thinks a few times of… <em>telling</em> someone. Asking for help, if not to his parents then- then to a guard, in the stations. Perhaps calling the police. But every time he thinks about doing that, something— <em>stops</em> him from following through. Makes him balk at the mental image of telling anyone about this, about how- how he let a stranger m-molest him for months. <em>Months</em>. How, except for changing train routes a few times, he didn´t do anything to stop this – didn´t ask for help before, during or after, didn´t run. Just… allowed a man to touch him over and over again, in public, without even a token of resistance.</p><p>How he came every single time.</p><p>It´s the shame, Leo thinks – wills himself to believe it with sheer, desperate intensity, that it´s the shame and only that. That <em>can´t</em> be anything else and there´s nothing about the small shiver that climbs his spine when the first touch breaks the paranoid stillness, except dread. Except for fear and dread and repulsion.</p><p>That´s all that there is.</p><p>(the dreams he started having—fuzzy and blurry, leaving no lasting image in his brain when he wakes up drenched in sweat, skin full of goosebumps, blanket heavy over his hard erection…</p><p>It is just what it means to be a teenage boy, Leo knows. He <em>knows</em>.</p><p>It means nothing.)</p><p>-</p><p>Leo is standing in his original train, enclosed by people on all sides and swallowed by their faint shadows, the ceiling lights doing very little to illuminate the few inches of space he has. It has been two months since all this began and he is still waiting for the moment the man will find himself satisfied enough to stop, or for him to get used to it – to the touches, to how the sharp feeling of violation and humiliation mix with the unwanted heat of arousal warming up his body. And he is, to a point—the pressure inside him <em>is</em> familiar, as well the feeling of those thick, long fingers sliding in and out in firm pushes, smattered with the slick of Leo´s own ass. Slow grinds over his walls, just feeling him out as the man works him open with three fingers.</p><p>The boy draws slow, halted breaths through the nose, teeth set together to soften the terribly shameful whines. He´s shaking as he hugs his pack back in one arm, the other hand holding his pants as high as the man´s hand allows it and shielding his erection from exposure, feeling his own flesh yielding all soft around that slick drag – and the man is not rubbing that horrible spot inside him and yet Leo shivers as those fingers sink past his tight ring again and again, quiet, quivering moans rising from his chest, wanting to spill from his mouth, the pleasure washing up his back like warm waves. It´s just the stretch now. Three fingers filling him to the last knuckle sending goosebumps over his skin where before it´d make him whimper with pain, his eyes watering now for another reason, tongue pressing the back of his teeth.</p><p>It has been a few days now that the man has been finding him every single night, and it is the fourth consecutive day he’s fingered him, slow and deep and patient, with the last three days lasting for the entire train journey. Which is why when the fingers dig inside him for a second longer, making him shudder and arch a hint—just to slip out without warning, Leo gasps and opens his eyes at the sheer surprise of it, feeling his insides hot and tingling, quivering around an emptiness. He´s panting out, blinking quickly<em>. What-?</em> The train rattles with a sudden smothered clatter, yet loud, and the lights blink out. The world goes dark outside as they enter the first tunnel, and any warning sound is drowned out. The iron grip around his waist is clear, however, as it´s the man shifting behind him—and something huge and hot touches his cheeks, smearing wetness on his crack during the heartbeat it takes for it to sink between his cheeks.</p><p>Leo doesn´t jump. He thinks he knows what is about to happen until the man finds and aligns with his hole. Shock freezes him as the hot tip snuggles against him instead of sliding down, leaking thick, warm liquid—then he´s heaving in panic as he understands what that person is planning to do right here, in the middle of a crowd. Not between his thighs. Instead—! Leo shakes his head in denial and for the first time in a long time attempts to escape, jolting weakly under this stranger´s strength. But it´s useless. An arm slides around Leo´s waist like an iron bar, and it´s all he can do to bite down his tongue and contain himself as the man grinds in against his ass, mashing that broad, hot head right at his entrance. Because that´s what it´s right now: an <em>entrance</em>.</p><p>A hole for a cock to fill.</p><p>Leo is shaking at the realization he´s about to get fucked. That he was being <em>prepared</em>.</p><p>He lets his head falls forward, barely daring to breathe, simultaneously trying to relax and tense, panicking in what he should do – it throbs angrily against him, fat pulses as the pressure grows bigger and bigger as the arm digs on his stomach. The boy whimpers, mouth falling open—the world dissolves and he can´t hear anything but the rumble of the man´s breathing, his soft grunts as that hot, wet cockhead starts burying itself into his meek little pucker, pushing his muscles wide apart with a shock of ache and pain. N-no way, it´s really… entering him…! He tries to clench, gripping tight his pants and school bag, but a hungry buck and the cockhead <em>punches</em> through, stretching the boy well beyond what, even in the distant corners of his mind he ever thought possible, in a single, pre-slicked squelch, very nearly ripping a frantic cry from Leo´s throat. And it continues to stretch him further, the older man pulling back marginally only to thrust again, forcing dry inches into the trembling, almost screaming teenager.</p><p>The darkness sways before his eyes as the man groans hungrily, lodging in deeper and deeper in his ass, stretching it impatiently, soaking his insides with thick pre. Leo´s own manhood practically humps the school bag as his body jerks with every eager push, manly hands pulling him back against it every time. Open mouth pressed over his ear, the man grows and groans as he plunges deeper, breaching Leo´s virginity with heavy, hard thrusts, seeming to delight in the frantic wrings of the boy´s ring attempting to resist and push him out. In instinct rather than consciously, as Leo simply arches and writhes, letting out gasping sobs that no one can hear at each new inch forced inside him, the raw burning of that cock sawing through his butt persistently, pulsing alarmingly against his walls.</p><p>He´s barely standing on his own now, face almost touching the back of the person in front of him, half-blind from tears. His legs jerk and spasm as his cheeks are shoved wide around that shaft spearing into him, waves of violent heat rolling through his body as he strains around that terrible cock, that man violating him in the middle of a full-packed train. His body from the thighs down is numb, knees shaking, breathing breaking into gasps and quivering moans as the adult man fucks him slow, firm.</p><p>Then almost suddenly two heavy balls are pressing against him, still clothed, with the cold touch of an open zipper and belt on his skin. The man groans out something and arms are drawing the edges of a coat around him before he hugs him hard and tight, a chin tucked against his temple – as if timed, the assault of noise and darkness vanishes at once and the world reappears outside the window.</p><p>The first tunnel is over.</p><p>Leo attempts to still the shaking of his body as he tries with all that its left of his rational mind to keep his face straight, his wet eyes and tears still trailing down his flushed cheeks. His chest heaves as he pants through the nose, tongue caught between teeth with throat working to swallow whimpers and sobs, mind whirling and dizzy – struggling to understand the sheer <em>stretch</em> of his flesh, and the hot and pulsing presence wedged so impossibly deep into his trembling form. Pre spills inside his already ruined boxers, cock swollen and aching with need, uncaring of the pain shooting up his spine each time his muscles spasms and meets a rock-solid resistance, keeping him stretched into a taut span.</p><p>He´s standing on a public space, the thought comes like a distant whisper, with a stranger´s cock buried balls-deep into his ass.</p><p>Leo´s never felt anything remotely like this before – every inch of him feels wired, his flesh stretched to a humming tension. The seconds pass like hours with that throbbing base sealed tight to his panicking ring, his own heartbeat competing with the man´s hoarse breathing. When the next tunnel rushes over them, Leo finds the little air he´s managed to gulp disappearing with the flood of dreadful anticipation, mouth falling open as if to ask for mercy—but instead, the stuffy air of the train rushes into his lungs as that searing presence stirs from the bottom of his gut to the end of his canal, and it´s like it´s sucking his insides as it drags out. Half-way out and the man rolls in again, sending wild waves of tremors up his hips when that warm and pulsing shaft pushes into the boy.</p><p>Leo stops thinking. Can´t. His mind turns lethargic around the only tangible awareness he has: the growing moisture between his cheeks, spread wide around that thick, slowly leaking cock, hot and pervasive pre slicking his walls. A mess already. His skin feels bristled and tingled all over with those lurching hips smacking firmly and rhythmically against his ass, the space between them growing warm and humid, with the roaring of the tunnel doing its best to drown out the soft medley of moans and wet slaps of skins.</p><p>He keens any time he finds the air dragged into him to do so, feeling the man´s tool punching into his gut, unerring and implacable. His toes curl and he arches despite himself, vision unfocused, when the man grinds heavily around his belly, holding him hilted and rolling those unforgiving hips in eager, hard circles that send a strained ecstasy through him. Then he thrusts point-blank and Leo´s head jolts upwards, gasping. He draws back and <em>shoves</em> back in and Leo´s head falls on his shoulder when the boy´s hips lurch forward, almost crying out at the sweet burn. Balls slap to his cheeks over and over as the strange man leaks soft groans.</p><p>Leo almost sobs, both in loss and relief, when the violent assault of his insides stops without warning and he´s pulled tight to that throbbing base as once again the second tunnel rushes to an end around them.</p><p>He´s left quivering and panting, knees almost giving in under him as the dreadful seconds pass. There´s thunder inside his ears, pre drooling down his legs and soaking up his pants. The world is the rattle beneath his feet and the man inside him breathing roughly over his ear, just waiting for the next window of opportunity to continue fucking him.</p><p>And no one… seems to have noticed anything.</p><p>Leo <em>hopes</em> no one noticed anything. But he cannot make himself raise his head to look around. To make sure there´s no one watching him being violated amidst a full train, face flushed and cock hard as if- as if he´s enjoying it.</p><p>He just closes his eyes when the next tunnel comes.</p><p>The fresh thrust sends a shock of new, searing pain and pleasure tearing up the inside of his ass, that blooms and <em>stays</em> as everything restarts. His mouth falls open in silent, desperate cries, and before Leo can think, he is dropping his bag and clawing the man´s shoulders, scrabbling weakly at his coat as the burning etches into him. The man hisses, the flat of his teeth pressing against the boy´s temple as a hand clasps over Leo´s mouth and he´s almost thankful, for he´s certain that his voice would be heard over the roaring train otherwise, now with such hopelessness carved onto it. He cries and whimpers, sounds driven out of him together with his breath as the brutal tool ridged with veins lodged in his belly rams the tip against his ribcage. His very flesh feels prickled with tension and aching, sick pleasure, every stroke grinding away at his resistance as his eyes squeeze shut and he clutches faintly at the man´s shoulders.</p><p>The fire building, stoking, throbbing in his lowest reaches erupts all at once. And the boy´s mouth falls open, tight throat strangling his wail to a voiceless cry that might have been a moan before his body seizes, muscles spasming with unbearable ecstasy as liquid arousal surges inside his boxers. The man shoves the boy back on his cock one last time, grip tightening to bruising degrees and then fire blooms in his gut. Raw heat, rolling over his spasming inner walls, so hot and so much. And Leo is shaking, eyes wide and unseeing, scathing pleasure scouring his mind, and the man holds him pinned tightly against those flexing balls through the whole of it, forcing him to take his seed at point-blank.</p><p>It´s a rush of pressure and swirling juices flooding every inch of his insides and Leo can almost… feel his guts expanding and tightening. He moans softly under the man´s hand, legs quivering and feet squirming weakly on the floor. He comes. Again, shivering hard. The already soaked fabric of his boxers clings to his twitching balls. His damn socks are wet. He feels full. He feels hot, sweat collecting on his skin. His eyelids flutter as he pants through the nose, face filled to the brim with heat.</p><p>The pleasure rinses his mind, driving him past wishing that all of this would stop, and instead melts any remaining will in his muscles. He goes limp, slowly unwinding from the grip of his orgasm until he´s sagging in the man´s grasp.</p><p>Submitting to his fate.</p><p>To his own treacherous body.</p><p>With one last pulsation, the man gives a contented sigh. When he pulls back, the drag is almost enough to set Leo onto a third orgasm, the boy´s eyes watering as inch after coated inch slips out of his throbbing butt. Cum starts dribbling from him the second the head pops out with a sucking sound, still so warm, but the brunt of it is still inside him, Leo suspects – there´s a slosh of liquid in his belly when he moves, that feels heavy. Tight. He pants heavily as the hand over his mouth retreats, lips and chin smeared with drool and sways on his feet while the man fixes his clothes.</p><p>His bag is returned to him and Leo grabs it mechanically.</p><p>When the doors open and the hands on his hips push him forward, he goes, shuddering with the feel of his slicked skin and the sparks of pain with each step. Head hanging low, unseeing eyes on the floor.</p><p>Leo allows himself to be directed and doesn´t even twitch when there´s the creak of a door and tiles appear underneath his sneakers, making his steps echo. A bathroom. Leo´s towed into a stall and his bag dropped somewhere on the floor before he´s sat on a toilet seat with his back against the cold wall. Skillful hands remove his soaked pants and boxers and leave him only in his shirt and sneakers, and his hips are lifted until almost only his shoulders are resting against the wall, shaking legs pushed apart as a presence leans over him – Leo blinks up with eyes that refuse to focus, seeing for the first time the man´s face through a barrier of unshed tears.</p><p>Blond, grey eyes, sharp jaw. A forty-something businessman, Leo thinks, wearing a three-piece suit under the black coat, navy blue pants so perfectly tailored that it hangs over his hips even when the man opens his belt. Again. Cum drips down his lower back, drips from his softening cock hanging over his stomach and he can smell it, can hear the zipper echoing inside the empty bathroom. His heart is thundering once more. He´s shaking.</p><p>Leo watches as the glistering cock slips down between his legs. Shivers as it pushes apart his damp cheeks. Whimpers, back arching and head thudding on the cold tile, mouth still wet with his own drool falling open as his eyes squeeze shut, bracing on the wall behind him for a moment while the man sinks into him once again – his paved walls <em>open</em>, stretching to that impossible tension that hums, sings, but this time <em>wet</em> and <em>smooth</em> and <em>hot</em>, <em>good</em>, <em>so good, oh God</em>—he scrambles, hands flying to splay open over the man´s abdomen, panting as the hard muscles shift under his palms to bring them together once again. He quivers, sobs, his muscles taut yet melting, pure heat flooding up his spine that makes him bite his lips to stifle a soft moan when the man leans over and slowly, slowly hilts inside Leo.</p><p>Something is crumbling apart, he thinks, gasping, blinking quickly eyes full of tears, staring at where they are sealed together. His mind, perhaps. His will. He doesn´t- he doesn´t know, he can´t think, thoughts padded with cotton and white noise as he feels him throbbing deep into his belly. His legs hang open in the cold air, shaking, toes curled tight inside his sneakers. And the ache disappeared. His walls ceased their painful attempts in contracting, to go back to what they were before being stretched so wide, now that they are so terribly, wonderfully filled.</p><p><em>I’m going to get fucked again</em>, Leo realizes numbly.</p><p>His eyes slip up, hands still open over the man´s stomach, mouth parted as he pants softly. <em>He´s going to fuck me twice</em>. The man´s expression is liquid with pleasure, blond eyebrows pulled together over half-lidded eyes. And Leo is moaning, whimpering as he drags back, cock slurping on his wringing ring with his fingers clawing his suit, desperate. “A-ah p-please—”</p><p>The man smiles. “Good boy,” he says, low, and grips his waist.</p><p>Leo moans out, legs quivering and jerking to either side as he sinks through his helpless, stretching ass, one knee supported on the toilet seat to make it as deep as possible. He seizes fistfuls of the blue vest as he gasps and pants, mouth working, as the man groans. He feels the shift of powerful muscles and his hips are heavy, moving in a slow roll, monumental, unavoidable. Perverse, intent on violating Leo´s body once more with the same patient hunger as the man slides into the teenager with firm, yet lazy thrusts, self-indulgent like a man who has all the time in the world.</p><p>And between the mounting feverish pleasure drowning him, making the most terrible sounds leak from his throat, Leo finally understands. There´s no escaping this. Him. As long as this man keeps finding him, there´ll never be enough. This is an appetite without end.</p><p>And Leo is the banquet.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. bathroom stall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thought i was done with this, apparently not hmm well</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nathaniel shifts, a lazy rock of his body, and slides deeper between those soft cheeks, hands curving around the boy´s plump thighs with greed he can barely control. His flesh is beautifully warm and smooth, tense muscles struggling to hug his cock, and the high schooler gives a breathy mewl that echoes through the empty bathroom, the black pants of some school´s uniform hanging together with his boxers around one of his ankles raised in the air, still wearing his sneakers. The red backpack is on the floor somewhere on the stall, and the boy holds his ripped shirt closed over the chest like a Victorian maiden, an image that is only helped by the alluring red hue underneath those thousand freckles, curls mussed and damp with sweat from their activities.</p><p>His fingers are curled tight around the white fabric. Shaking. The lens of his glasses a bit fogged, for all that Nathaniel can still see his heavy-lidded eyes.</p><p>The air is damp and hot. Stinking of sex.</p><p>Nathaniel´s hips roll slowly, grinding through the snug grasp of those cheeks with a wet slide, the pre he is leaking mixing with dollops and strings of white cum smeared across the boy´s cleft. Causing a wet sound, an audible <em>shlick… shlick… shlick</em>, a pure mess of liquids, and the proof of his crimes. <em>Sins</em>. Lewd, unforgiving <em>sins</em> that he swore he would never commit again after almost being caught last time. And <em>yet</em> his eyes remain on the boy laying on his back on top of a subway´s toilet seat, shoulders backed on the tiled wall and bent on the waist on a degree that speaks of flexible youth, trembling knees framing his face with Nathaniel´s hands branding bruises on his thighs.</p><p>The boy he molested for weeks now, in public. That he just raped twice and it´s about to do it again.</p><p>Legs flexing, Nathaniel works on hardening himself on the cleavage of that ass once again. And the feel of his flesh, soft and yielding, yet squeezing his shaft with twitches of tension, seems to beseech for... everything. Every throb, every grind. It only leaves him wanting more and <em>more</em>. Ah, he knows this. The man wets his lips with a low hum as he leans a hand on the wall and presses down on the boy, savoring at the way he quivers, eyes squeezing shut behind the square lens. <em>This is why he tried to stop</em>; you see? Some people have cocaine. Others alcohol and cigarettes. Nathaniel has pretty, soft boys and the mind-numbing thrill of doing everything he shouldn´t with them. An addiction that shows less than drugs, perhaps. No red-rimmed eyes and shaky hands and surges of rage and temper, like the downfall of so many of his colleagues over the years. But—… addiction is addiction. Doesn´t matter the shape it takes. It ruins you anyway, the fall worse the longer you let it run its course through you, little by little becoming the core of your very existence.</p><p>It turns the days into simple pauses, with everything you do in-between just an act until you can get your next dose. The world becomes grey and dull, unless—</p><p>—unless you´re thrusting inside a cute young boy, his petite virgin ass taking turns between strangling and <em>sucking</em> at your cock. Unless you´re hyper-aware of other people nearby, perhaps just a door away or perhaps almost shoulder-to-shoulder with you, and <em>yet</em> somehow unaware of your despicable actions. Nathaniel still remembers the first time he felt this lecherous thrill at the thought of being discovered: eighteen-years-old with his fourteen-year-old cousin on his hands and knees, the teen´s pants pushed down to the middle of his thighs, oversized shirt still on and the suit jacket on the floor, while Nathaniel was still fully dressed on his graduating tuxedo. The springs of the mattress creaking softly underneath them both in the dark bedroom, that couldn´t quite drown out the wet squirt of his condom-wrapped, lubed cock plunging into the young boy again and again, leisure and slow and self-indulgent. He wanted to enjoy the moment, Nathaniel remembers, for all that he didn´t exactly plan any of that. The condoms and the lube in his backpack had been coincidences.</p><p>He remembers the sight of his hands wrapped around a small, trembling waist, Ethan´s hands bunching up the sheets in a white-knuckled grip while he tried so very hard to be quiet. To not alert both their families in the living room, their voices muffled but still distinguishable through the walls. His young breathless moans, desperately stifled on the pillow, a wordless pleading that could <em>almost</em> cover up the piercingly quiet squelching of Nathaniel deflowering his virginity. <em>Fucking</em> him right on his own bed, with his parents and uncle and aunt just outside the unlocked door and one whim away from catching them.</p><p>It was the best fuck he ever had back then. Nothing in his eighteen years of life could have compared. The rush of pure adrenaline coursing through him at each thrust he dared to give like oxygen being pumped into the fire of his arousal, making his very bones <em>hum</em> like a tuning fork, making him dizzy at his own damn <em>audacity</em>. At doing something so- so wrong and depraved and <em>relishing</em> in it. Compelled him to keep going even after his first orgasm, chasing this almost crazed high and only stopping to rip off the used condom and put a new one, shuddering at the way his cousin was wailing and trembling like a new-born fawn amidst his own third climax, small cock spurting pathetic dollops of almost watery liquid onto the damp sheets.</p><p>(He fucked Ethan for the better part of an hour.)</p><p>After that, Nathaniel was… <em>hooked</em>. He tried going back to normal sex but… it was like eating an overly-done steak after having the pleasure of sinking your teeth in a perfectly done one, feeling juices flooding your mouth full of flavor – it just wasn’t the same. It was boring.</p><p>Tasteless.</p><p>And Nathaniel cannot take his meal without taste.</p><p>Propping one knee on the seat, Nathaniel bends partway on top of the boy as his hips roll back and forth, giving kisses of pre on his soft sack and leaving his taint and skin wetter. The high schooler draws slow, trembling breaths under him, each one leaking in a quiet whine as his hands rises to clasp over his mouth. In their shared sense of interlocked flesh, they both feel the change being sowed— each push firmer and more demanding than the last, as the older man´s cock grows harder. A promise of what´s to come.</p><p>“M-ngh…”</p><p>Nathaniel thrusts in, and the teenager’s hips bend closer to his face under the power of his thrusts, a soft moan, barely audible, rasping from his throat, and his own arousal is filling up again, perhaps unwillingly yet still very real. Reminds him of his second boy, he thinks: babbling pleads for him to stop but fighting to be silent nerveless, instead of screaming for help like they could. Should. Nathaniel never gagged them, after all. His boys. Didn´t want to and, as it happens, never needed to. Rarely they did more than stammer protesting moans at being used, perhaps squirming a hint in his grasp at first, if they did anything at all. This one fought to stay <em>still</em> when a simple bump might have saved him from his fate. Instead, here he was, rear flexing and quivering pucker tickling the back of his shaft, pliant plump legs spread open without an ounce of resistance, despite the fact Nathaniel could penetrate him at any moment— for the third time. All dirty with cum and sweat.</p><p>How can he resist? All his previous attempts failed, half-hearted things they were at best, which says more about his addiction than his will power. Besides, Nathaniel gave up on being a good person a long time ago, and he knows there´s a special spot in Hell just for him that he´ll only fill up when someone finally stops him.</p><p>(If someone ever does.)</p><p>He thinks about Adam, his second.</p><p>Nathaniel had been twenty when he met him interning on his college library. His professor´s son. A soft little thing with ginger hair and green eyes, fifteen-years-old in age but with a body still clinging to the pliability of childhood that Ethan had already lost by his 14º birthday. Shy. Nathaniel first took him during a normal afternoon, with students browsing through books one or two shelves away and a quietness that only the air conditioner was allowed to break. He sucked the boy´s completely virgin cock until he was nice and hard, hands twisting his hair and teenager voice cracking around barely contained whimpers and sobbing; then prepared him with his own tongue and fingers, right in the middle of a random corridor, not that hidden in the library. When Nathaniel finally, finally pushed into the kid with a cock lubed on spit only, the professor´s son was softly yielding and warm from his third orgasm.</p><p>It was… numbly <em>good</em>. In broad daylight and this time somewhere <em>public</em>, where <em>anyone</em> could walk into their corridor and see what they were doing. Other students, the library´s monitors, professors... even security. The risk was so much bigger. So much <em>delightful</em> that Nathaniel ignored Adam´s frightened pleas to <em>wait, p-please wait-</em>, cock throbbing at the boy´s efforts to remain noiseless at each unhurried drive into his ass, mouth desperately pressed on the man´s shoulder with fingers caught in the blond hair in an almost painful grip. His legs tight around his waist, squirming and shaking, the easy <em>squelch</em> of his cock pushing into a heavenly warm hug of flesh in a steady rhythm, so damn tight yet still yielding to him. Accepting him. As if that boy´s ass was made for his cock. Adam panted broken moans with his cock squeezing squirts of watery liquid between their stomachs, plump thighs quivering so hard – but the library was so ear-splittingly <em>silent</em> even with the rumbling of the air conditioners, that the gentle sound of moving fabric had been staggeringly loud, the soft tinkle of a belt a church bell…</p><p>Forced to balance between the need to pound into the boy until he was screaming and the knowledge that if they were any louder, someone surely… surely would <em>hear</em>. Would frown in confusion and tilt their head to hunt down the strange noises, distracted from their books and studies. Perhaps they´d even walk around the corner to take a peek… only to see Adam with his back against the shelves and his legs spread open, his boyish face flushed and glazed with tears, panting. Only to see Nathaniel and his obviously older constitution, forehead matted with damp blond hair and jeans caught on his hipbones, flyer open and boxers pulled down. Would they stagger back in <em>shock</em>, staring at Nathaniel´s cock sliding out and out and out… only to be eaten whole by this little boy´s ass in one easy thrust? Would they wonder in horrified fascination <em>how</em> Adam was not splitting in half? <em>How</em> he could take it without crying out every time it slipped into him.</p><p>What if they didn´t call the guards right away? Maybe they would stay frozen on the spot for a few moments longer, enough to watch Adam quiver and shake as if coming apart, mouth forming a warning that never amounted to real words – to see his boyhood tremble and spit pitiful droplets of almost nothing, and realize that´s a <em>dry</em> orgasm. That the teenager had been pounded and pounded until all of the youthful resilience was used up and there was nothing left to give… They would look back to the kid´s face and <em>see</em> it: the unbearable pleasure he´s trying to hide; his barely concealed moans and stuttering breaths; and the fact that he´s <em>loving</em> this, having an older man using him this way, doesn´t matter how much he tried to deny in the beginning.</p><p>Nathaniel purrs, and the boy doesn´t seem able to hold back the sounds in his throat even with both lips trapped between teeth, his cheeks bright red as his arousal bobs and splatters pre all over his own chest. A whimper slips from him as the man moves back, slow and deliberate, and press his throbbing weapon right over his slicked entrance, overflowing the tiny crevice with a gush of pre – he feels it spasming against his tip for a moment of burning, delicious potential, feeling the electric strain like shivers of heat in the lower stomach as stares keenly at the boy´s helpless gaze behind the glasses…</p><p>There´s a sudden metallic squeak and the loud noise of a train station washes inside the bathroom, together with two pairs of footsteps. “—are disgusting, dude,” a man is saying. And Nathaniel freezes, his mouth drying in violent, abrupt <em>tension</em>, cock pulsating hard. The boy´s eyes widen to panicked disks as his breathing hitches, chokes. The molten compliance hardens with muscles constricting into violin strings.</p><p>Nathaniel watches in hunger.</p><p>“Well, I can´t smoke on the platform and I´m not going outside in this cold. I like my balls where they are,” a second voice replies, gruff. There´s the ruffle of fabric followed by the snap of a lightener. Frightened eyes are locked on him as Nathaniel licks his lips slowly, hands coursing over those soft thighs with flexed, trembling muscles. He braces a hand the wall and reaches down to grip around his cock just under the crown then, movements languid, and the man can see the comprehension dawning on the kid´s face just a second before he leans down his hips and starts to slowly, gradually push inside.</p><p>Oh. Oh, it feels so <em>good.</em></p><p>“Keep the door open, if it bothers you so much.” He swallows tiny groans of delight, feeling those beautiful warm walls once more sliding around him with a panicked tightness that does nothing to stop his progress, little wet hole <em>wringing</em>, trying to stop him while its owner jerks, legs kicking at each side torn between trying to push him or squeezing around him as if to slow him down, hands clawing frantically at his stomach. The kid shakes and shakes his head, mouth moving with silent imploring, chest heaving – but it´s useless. Twice pounded, his cum-slicked flesh yields so obediently now, receiving the once intruder like a sheath accepting its sword.</p><p>The head slips in with a wet little <em>squelch</em> and the kid falters, shuddering from head to toe. Nathaniel bares his teeth in a silent hiss.</p><p>“I will, dipshit.” The first voice stays close to the door. A woman can be heard at the distance through speakers, announcing the next train. The boy´s hands grip his vest tight, legs enfolding around his waist as if he is trying to close them. Nathaniel let go of his cock and moves to hold both of his hips, pulling back an inch only to roll back in, toes curling a little at the heated pleasure of it as he watches the teenage arch his back, eyes squeezing shut with his mouth falling open, brow tight – he trembles harder and harder the deeper the man sinks, arms taut in an attempt to stop him.</p><p>Useless, of course. He can feel something of a purr building inside his chest.</p><p>“You know that shit kills, right?” someone asks. The other man huffs. The boy´s cock twitches. Pre seeps out from the boy´s slit, drops that stretch thin strings of transparent liquid before reaching his already besmirched shirt. Nathaniel draws back until the crown is teasing the boy´s rim… and sinks back slow and nice, one third, half, oh, <em>oh</em> that´s it, so <em>good</em>, so good, he doesn´t stop, smooth and warm and snug, those fluttering depths opening up around his girth as if it wasn´t something that even an experienced whore would struggle with. Until… he´s… hilted… <em>Fuck,</em> he firmly presses against those soft cheeks as trying to sink even deeper. Ah, more, he wants so much <em>more</em>. Damnit. He grips the boy´s waist and slowly slips out, slick <em>dripping</em> from his cock as if he was fucking a wet pussy, <em>fuck</em>-</p><p>“What are you, my mom? Fuck off.”</p><p>“Alright, alright. No need to shoot the messenger.”</p><p>Nathaniel grits his teeth, mind almost fuzzy with hot pleasure and cold adrenaline, the fear of being discovered coursing through his veins even as his hips push forward and grind wide circles. Heartbeat pounding inside his head. The boy´s hole quivers and clenches, hands grasping erratic and desperate at his vest, his shoulders, soft little pants wafting through the air between them together with the rustling of their clothes. Nathaniel dares start thrusting. The open door sucks the better part of the acoustics of the bathroom and the men are still talking, and he calculates that the chatter is enough to cover up everything or at least distract them. But he isn´t sure. He´s never sure. But he can´t make himself stop, stomach tense and hot with need and his hips are almost moving on their own as he stifles his groans, hearing the steady <em>squish squish squish</em> of his cock plunging the boy´s ass.</p><p>Who is trembling, mouth open, hands tangled on the vest of his chest. Cock is running almost continuously now, and it only serves to heighten his arousal. It reminds him of how he forced orgasm after orgasm from the kid, unwanted yet undeniable, right in the middle of a crowd. And the stimulation of the memories <em>floods</em> him. His head spins. He almost groans out loud, eyes getting unfocused. Fuck <em>fuck</em>— His muscles are buzzing with coiled tension, remembering, <em>wanting</em>. He wants to fuck this boy until he´s wailing but he can´t, he <em>can´t</em>, the sweet threat of discovery hanging above them as his hips tremble with the effort of <em>holding back</em>, teeth threatening to crack<em>—</em></p><p>“How´s Amanda going, by the way? It´s been a while since we spoke.”</p><p>But his control <em>cracks</em>. His hips shove forward with an audible, wet <em>slap</em> and the boy flinches, eyes snapping wide open and Nathaniel doesn´t stop— “Fine. You know, still working on her projects. I think the last one was about books—” he wants to moan, thrusting hard and fast, reckless, eager, more frenzied. The boy immediately writhes, scrambling to clasp both hands over his mouth, expression desperate. His thighs try to stop him. It doesn´t work. The stall fills with clammy sounds of his dripping cock keenly fucking that jiggly ass, an irregular <em>smack smack smack</em> that somehow the men outside doesn´t seem to hear or maybe they just aren´t paying attention—</p><p>“What a nice girl. You should ask her out.”</p><p>“Dude, I´m the guy who smokes on public bathrooms ´cause I can´t be bothered to walk outside. She reads books to homeless kids. No way—"</p><p>Then the teenager´s eyes roll back and spasms seize his body at once, back arching away from the toilet seat almost as if thrusting the air, cock pulsating angrily: a watery white liquid squirts from the slit, once, splattering without noise the boy´s already stained shirt, but he keeps trembling, legs squeezed almost painfully around Nathaniel´s waist. The man stops moving and wraps a hand around the coming kid, feeling the flesh wet from previous orgasms intensely hot and quivering as he starts jerking him, the <em>shlickshlickshlick</em> of his palm just as loud as the squelch of their fucking. There´s the sound of a trash can being open behind him, followed by running water, the men still chattering – perhaps the only reason why they don´t hear the choked cry the teenager let´s slip, body convulsing all over again as a second orgasm hits him. Or maybe just one, prolonged. A thin rope of viscous liquid starts leaking from the boy, the very last that his balls can squeezed out after being emptied four times in a row. Five, with this one.</p><p>Nathaniel smiles and lets go of the kid. He seizes his thighs and pulls the boy, dragging until his shoulders and head are laying on the toilet seat. Then Nathaniel slips out with a sucking <em>squelch</em>, cock throbbing and spurting gushes of pre as he turns the confused and still orgasming boy, forcing his face down on the seat with his sneakers squeaking on the floor. Doesn´t matter – <em>footsteps behind him and the voices are leaving</em>. He immediately grabs the ceramic edges, back bowing again and again, runny liquid dripping on the floor and noisily gasps for air the moment the door clicks shut. Nathaniel doesn´t give him time to recover: bracing himself on the seat at each side of the boy, he aims at the puffy, spasming hole and claims it once again in one single thrust that forces the kid to the tip of his toes. He cries out – either because he noticed the security men left or because he just can´t hold back any longer. It echoes loudly. Beautifully. He´s still quivering, walls wringing so <em>tight</em> around him that Nathaniel groans softly, loving the feel of sudden strain and resistance.</p><p>The man straightens and grabs the kid´s waist before dragging out. Then he pounds in viciously, hips digging into the plump padding of that ass before dragging out for another blow, and another, and another. The toilet squeaks in protest under the driving force of Nathaniel´s hips, not made to endure such abuse. The boy´s own arousal slaps at his belly in counterpoint with each thrust, spurting pathetic strings of liquid as he´s rocked above the toilet seat, hands gripping its edges with white-knuckle strength as he lets out shaky cries and gasps, tears welling up on his tightly shut eyes. The bathroom is far from silent now, and anyone who would enter would be hit with the full noise of that boy being violated.</p><p>“<em>—please, p-please, I can´t-no more—!”</em></p><p>Nathaniel moans his delight, head falling back with a breathy “yes, <em>fuck</em>—", as his feet find a proper hold on the floor and suddenly it´s the force of both legs now backing his next thrust. A high, shaky cry, verging on a moan, bursts from the poor boy´s throat, thrumming with pressure only to then waver, wet and continuous as the adult man nails that delicious little hole with stroke after stroke. Nathaniel grinds deep into that wide-spread, strained ass, hands around the boy to pin him tight against every shove. Feels his balls beginning to tighten already, cock throbbing against the sweet, warm walls more and more, hearing the frantic <em>smacksmacksmacksmack</em>. His nails grate across the porcelain as Nathaniel drives in harder with each moment, and his moans surge desperate and shaky as the man sinks as deep as he can physically go with each thrust, that assaulted ring deliciously tight around his base.</p><p>“—<em>p-p-p-ple</em>-”</p><p>With the weight of a tidal wave, a dreadful <em>flood</em> of obscene pleasure that knows no bounds or shame comes— the culmination of this despicable encounter that shouldn´t have ever occurred. And yet it <em>did</em>, despite all the risks and chances, leaving Nathaniel´s reckless, relentless defilement of an innocent boy to crawl under his skin and flesh as his muscles coil to haul that ass for a final, resounding blow. His balls heave tight, and a guttural groan of ecstasy leaves him and washes over the quivering and broken teenager, bent and taking gush after gush of his seed with hiccupping, wet moans, his skin filled with shivers – his own cock pulsating with another dry orgasm.</p><p>The tide finally relents after a long pause. Nathaniel lets a deep breath go and relaxes his grip, blinking lazily at the dirty ceiling. The musky smell of sex and sweat is clammy, settling thickly on his tongue as he breathes it, clinging to his skin. The floor sticks to his Italian shoes when he shifts to unknot a bit of tension on his lower back, splattered with all sorts of liquids. He brushes a hand through his slightly damp hair, absentmindedly fixing it before checking his golden wristwatch.</p><p>He smiles.</p><p>Nathaniel looks down at the boy he just used and used without a moment of mercy, seeing his stretched-out hole red and pitiful around his overwhelming girth, fresh semen leaking out to slowly drip down his legs. He resettles his hand around the soft curve of his hips, before pulling out—only to thrust home again. And again, and again, pushing at first exhausted whimpers from the kid… then as the man truly begins fucking him once more, half-formed denials, pleas for clemency… and, as all words melt away under the growing intensity of each thrust, the sluttish moans of a bitch in need of a good rutting. And Nathaniel is more than happy to provide it.</p><p>After all, there're still many hours left before the subway closes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Movie Theater.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That’s it, raise your hips…” His words are loud yet muffled in the stifling air of the car. Sliding around his hips and waist, two large hands take turns caressing his sweaty skin and gripping him firmly, sometimes even gliding up his back under his shirt as the man groans in his ear. Leo whimpers softly, one hand gripping the red shirt of the adult as the other slips against the fogged window beside him, leaving trails of fingers across the condensation as the hips underneath him surges up at the same time Leo is pushed down, making him strain open around that condom-wrapped, lubed, pulsing shaft with an obscene squelch.</p><p>Yet if anyone were to try to look inside, they wouldn’t see anything, Leo knows. The glass is tinted black.</p><p>The stranger breathes out, let’s out a low groan, "Fuck, that’s it... god, you feel so good… " There’s the creaking of leather on the background, the driver seat’s underneath them suffering their shifting. The planes of his chest are made of gently yielding muscles, while the abdomen rubbing against Leo’s spent dick is a board of flexible power that finds no problem in shifting him up and down, working in sync with the hard and broad thighs under him. The burgundy shirt  is soft even bunched up in his hand. The suit jacket and the silver-striped tie are on the passenger seat, together with the young teenager’s pants and underwear, his sneakers on the floor together with the school bag, leaving the boy only with his unbuttoned shirt. His whole body is trembling, his chest swelling with unsteady panting that puffs against the man’s hair where Leo is pressing temple to temple with him, mouth hanging open, almost letting out sobs at the hot press against his insides grinding nerve-fraying pleasure into him.</p><p>He is taut open, and stinging just a hint, and yet it is just as—it is <em>better</em>, so <em>much better</em> than his pitiful sessions with the dildo he bought in a moment of wild desperation last week, the hard and cold silicone paling before the wondrous feeling of hot flesh burrowing deep inside him. Forcing him to feel every throb with those hips pushing snug to his cheeks, rolling point-blank to hungrily grind that throbbing weapon around, claiming Leo fully in a way he'd never be able to replicate alone. And the thought cuts, fills him with despair and humiliation at how utterly <em>addicted</em> his body became on the pleasure given by his molester. By this stranger whose name he still doesn’t know and knows nothing about, except that he made his job and pleasure to torment Leo for what’s months now.</p><p>They are parked on an alley right outside Leo’s house, because he found where his school is somehow – perhaps searching for Leo’s uniform – and began to pick him up two or three times a week, in addition to the irregularly timed encounters on the subway on the days he doesn’t. And Leo… should have run away the first time he saw the blond man in navy-blue suit casually leaned against a sleek, black Mercedes right around the corner of the street he had to walk to reach the subway. Or perhaps… walked past the man. Ignored him.</p><p>They were out in the open, after all, with dozens of people milling around and cars on the street.</p><p>And yet… when those grey eyes fell onto him and the man smiled little—just a gentle curve of his lips, Leo froze on the spot. He stared as he stepped away from the car and opened the passenger door with a suave movement, and when he gave a subtle nod for him to get in, Leo swallowed through a dry mouth…</p><p> </p><p>and obeyed.</p><p> </p><p>When he asked for his address with that smooth, baritone, Leo told him.</p><p> </p><p>When he drove past his house and turned into the dark alley beside it, turning off the engine, Leo kept quiet, staring at his hands clutching his pants, heart rabid-fast and loud on his eardrums. And when a warm, dry hand curved over the nape of his neck and gently tugged him down towards the man’s lap, he folded without resistance and proceeded to give his first blowjob right there, head bobbing in front of the steering wheel under the weight of a guiding hand as he slurped on the cock that stole his virginity just a few days prior, face hot and jaw aching with bitter precum soaking up his entire mouth, impossible aware of his family just a few meters away.</p><p>Because he told them he changed the subway’s route months ago, his arrival is expected only after two hours after the end of his classes. By car, the journey took no more than thirty minutes.</p><p>And the nameless stranger seemed to know about this discrepancy, for he took advantage of every single minute.</p><p>He always does.</p><p>And something is terribly wrong with Leo, who doesn’t do anything but meekly obey, following when he’s pulled, doing what he’s told to do. Doesn’t matter how hard he denies and holds back and tells himself he <em>shouldn’t</em>, that he <em>doesn’t have</em> to because this is wrong and he could put a stop to this, in the end… in the end he finds himself moaning throatily while this man, this stranger fucks his ass raw, quivering as his balls pump with almost sore fervor, spilling thin wads onto the man’s shirt for the third time already, the constant abuse of that hidden sweet spot inside him driving him helplessly over the edge once again. And for the third time, shame washes hot through him, yet, doing nothing to diminish his pleasure... Shameful, trembling, debased ecstasy, that turns his voice into something almost unrecognizable, all breathy and sultry interpolated with faltering moans. Ringing so damn <em>filthy</em>.</p><p>Leo sways precariously up and down along with those rolling hips, moving to cling to the man as his lips presses over the teenager’s pulse, mouthing it and licking with every grinding thrust. His knees dig on the leather, feet braced almost on the edge of the seat as slick and lube dribble down the inner side of his thighs and soils the suit pant, giving him barely enough leverage to avoid hitting the steering wheel under the steady beating of those hips against him. The final shove is a wet smack on the car filled with steam and stinking of cum and sweat, all the louder in sudden, straining silence as the man hugs Leo hard and his voice evaporates. The thick, potent gushes are felt even through the thin condom, a burst of heat deep inside his belly.</p><p>His voice finally breaks free in labored pants and wretched moans, arching, flushed, toes curling and digging at the seat. His own cock throbs, runny liquid dripping from the slit, balls too empty to push out anything despite the boy’s orgasm.</p><p>The older man finally exhales out, relaxing his grip, leaving Leo collapsed and trembling on top of him while they both try to regain their breath for a few moments. The air is damp with sweat, the strong smell filling his lungs as he pants noisily, cheek pressed over the moving chest. Way before when Leo would judge himself ready, he’s lifted easily and submitted one again to the feeling of that prodigious cock dragging out of him with a loud, obscene slurp, crown catching the inside of his rim for a moment before the man forcefully pops it out, making a cry burst from him.</p><p>“Ah… ah… ah…” He watches from the corner of his vision as the stranger casually removes the used condom, ties it, and drops on the floor at the passenger side, where half a dozen of other used condom and opened packages lie scattered. He grabs another one from the colorful pile on the glove compartment before manhandling a whimpering Leo in a spin and pushing him against the steering wheel – and the boy doesn’t know how the horn doesn’t blast when this happens, if perhaps the man does something to silence it on the days he knows he going to use Leo thoroughly on his own car. He hugs it against his chest anyway, head bent forward as he hears the already so damn familiar sound of a foil wrapper being torn open and latex unrolling, the slicked slide as the man smears himself on lube, the tube already two-thirds empty even though Leo remembers seeing it brand new only a week ago.</p><p>Hands hold his hips still, angling it before he’s pulled back on the man’s lap, that <em>still</em> somehow hard cock slowly sinking into his pounded hole for the nth time and submitting Leo to the humiliation of feeling the cramping on his walls <em>easing</em> as they are filled, no longer spasming around what now they understand as an emptiness. And Leo is moaning, shaking, this time not because of what he just went through but because of what he knows it’s going to happen <em>again</em>. And again and again, with no regards to his already exhausted and sore body and the way he feels raw and oversensitive and used up – because the cell phone on the window holder shows clearly:</p><p>they still have forty-two minutes left.</p><p>-</p><p>“Here.”</p><p>Leo looks up from where he was shakily closing his pant's fly, wincing now and then – there´s still a hint of heat on his cheeks, his small curls damp and plastered against his forehead. The older man watches him with a mild expression, shirt popped open until mid-chest allowing to see his collarbone and faint scratch marks going down from his shoulders, cigarette between fingers letting a trail of smoke that leaves through the open window.</p><p>His eyes fall to the slip of paper he’s being offered.</p><p>Adam´s apple bobs a little as Leo swallows and accepts it. The man takes a drag as the boy hesitantly looks over the paper, struggling to read it in the precarious light of a distant streetlamp.</p><p>It’s a movie ticket.</p><p>“What…” his voice rasps. Leo stops, clears his throat before trying again. “What is this?”</p><p>Slouched on the driver seat, he exhales slowly, smoke spilling with his words as he says, “the movie theatre is nearby your house and it’s easy enough to reach by bus. Afternoon session this Saturday. Don’t be late.”</p><p>Leo stares, eyes wide. “I…”</p><p>Grey eyes glance at him. The man taps the cigarette on the window. “You don’t want to?”</p><p><em>No</em>, he wants to say, <em>I don’t want any of this</em>. But when he opens his mouth, what comes out is, “W… what I’m going t-to tell my parents?”</p><p>He shrugs one shoulder. “Tell them you’re going with some friends.”</p><p>“They know all my friends.”</p><p>“Then say you’re going alone.”</p><p>Leo swallows, biting his bottom lip. The soreness of his ass stings more sharply when he nods weakly, stomach tied into knots. The man takes a drag while still looking at Leo, then throws out the butt through the window, exhaling grey as he leans forward across the seats – Leo breaths in precariously through the mouth, tensing despite his muscles protests when he reaches for the front of his pants. He sits still, heart-pounding as the man calmly pops the button and pulls the zipper closed, before starting to close his shirt with easy, practiced motions. “Just be on time,” he says, smoothing down his collar. Grey eyes flick up to his, half-lidded, and his voice is a quiet bass. “I don’t like waiting.”</p><p>Throat tight, Leo can only nod again.</p><p>He smiles, eyelids low.</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>-</p><p>When Leo enters the cinema, he looks around the crowd nervously, drying his sweaty hands on his shorts. The place is full, families and groups of friends talking and walking around, buying tickets, and movie snacks. People's clothes vary in styles but follow a casual pattern.</p><p>He sees no dark-navy suit.</p><p>Swallowing, the boy looks again at the ticket, already a little crumpled from being handled for the past three days straight. The session starts in a few minutes, so he heads for the entrance line, albeit almost hesitantly – he almost gave up and went home about five times since he told his family he was going out, and he doesn't know why he resisted the urge.</p><p><em>Or maybe that is a lie</em>, something lascivious whispers inside his head and Leo shivers, staring at the floor as he walks. The way he's been acting... the things he's been doing—that he's <em>let</em> a strange man do to him. For so long. In so many indecent manners, when he never even held hands with someone before. How could he do these things?</p><p><em>You know why you’re here</em>, the same voice says, <em>and you just keep telling yourself that you don’t.</em></p><p>
  <em>Just admit it.</em>
</p><p>Leo breaths in shakily and shoves these thoughts away, the splash of shame making his face heat up. <em>That’s not true</em>, he tells himself as he enters the movie room. <em>He’s forcing me. I don’t want any of this.</em></p><p>As he climbs towards the last row stretched across the back wall of the large chamber, Leo finally makes himself raise his eyes – and like moths to a flame, they immediately spot a lone figure sitting right in the middle, wearing a white shirt with a pinstriped black vest, long legs crossed elegantly and showing off polished shoes. No tie. No jacket. A single strand falls softly over the side of his forehead from his golden, neatly combed hair.</p><p>Grey eyes meet him from where the man is resting his cheek against a hand, and he smiles.</p><p>Leo’s breath evaporates, as he tries desperately to hold onto his previous thought. <em>I don’t want this</em>.</p><p>
  <em>I don’t want-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I-</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Five minutes after the lights go out and the movie starts, there’s a subtle shifting beside him and an arm slides over his shoulders. Leo swallows as a hand course through his hair slowly, tensing up – yet when his chin is seized and gently turned, Leo’s body is pliant, an unresisting and trembling form. The lights of the screen provide too little light in the heavy darkness, and Leo’s muddled mind only realizes what’s about to happen when the man leans down and he’s backed against the arm wrapped around him, a mouth pressing over his. He inhales suddenly, a tiny gasp, lips parting in his surprise just in time for the wet hotness of a tongue to slide between them and into his mouth and then Leo is shuddering, eyes squeezing shut, grasping at the armrests as the man caresses his cheek with a thumb, head tilting slightly. A hint of sweetness comes through as his tongue leisurely moves against Leo’s, lazy and all slicked and feverous, making a whimper escape from the boy’s throat only to pour between them, stifled by their mouths. He breaths through the nose, heart pounding erratically.</p><p>A hand finds his waist, caress his stomach before careening down into his shorts. Leo jolts, arches a bit with a soft protesting moan, for all that he simply clutches harder at the chair while that hand moves languidly, groping him over the underwear, almost at the pace of the tongue inside his mouth moving and making small, wet sounds as their lips coated on saliva slip against each other.</p><p>On the screen, a narration starts over a fairy-tale-like melody, gentle and sad, and the man sighs and curls his tongue back, the boy sucks air quite heavily as the history of the world is explained. <em>Is that what a deep kiss is?</em> The thought is flustered, dizzy. He pants, tries to stifle whimpers as the hand between his thighs continues, dexterous fingers feeling him up very deliberately. He’s h-half-hard already, god, is he really going to— r-right here—?</p><p>“Do you think about me at night?” The question, muttered right over his ear, makes his skin bristle. A battle seems to be happening in the movie.</p><p>His fingernails dig at the armrests. “…y… yes…”</p><p>“And do you touch yourself when you do?”</p><p>A roar of war echoes from the speakers.</p><p>“I- y… yes…”</p><p>He can feel the man smiling against his skin and Leo’s face is hot with humiliation. The hand slips up and Leo braces himself, drawing a shallow breath, feeling those fingers pushing past the elastic band of his boxers a-and—<em>ah</em>…! “How often?” He mumbles, nuzzling the boy’s temple as he closes his fingers into a gentle grip, carefully thumbing the stiffening length.</p><p>Leo swallows the sound climbing his throat. There’s a couple right in front of them on the next row and people sitting on either their sides, even if not immediately beside them, just one or two seats away.</p><p>The trotting of horses can be heard as two characters talk on the movie.</p><p>“It’s okay. You can tell me.”</p><p>Leo shudders, closing his eyes as that hand moves, pushing down, thumb feeling up the crown of his head, teasing out more of the sensible gland. “E-every,” he whispers, stammering, words sticking to his tongue, “… every… n-ah…night.”</p><p>“Oh?” The man chuckles, warm hand starting to stroke along the length of his cock. “I’m a bit surprised... Never would have pegged you as the type.” Leo breaths shakily, leaning heavily onto the chair, legs quivering uncertain of whatever to shut close or open even more while those fingers squeeze around the length, sliding all the way down to nestle around the base before retaking the journey to the other end, slow and unhurried… until Leo’s fully hard, precum dribbling out of the head and dampening the inside of his underwear. And he would’ve been tenting his shorts rather obscenely, if the blonde’s hand wasn’t already bulging up the cloth, visibly moving underneath it. “But then again…” Nuzzling his hair, the man breaths deeply with a pleased drone and Leo almost squeals as a callused pad brushes up his slit from his frenulum, running circles around the wetness building-up there and making him want to whimper. “… you’re a growing boy, hmm, just learning about your own body… there’s no shame in a bit of self-indulgence, is there?”</p><p>Leo tries to fight himself. He tries to fight the rush of heat at the bass voice ringing so sweetly, the trembling need rising in every inch of his body. He closes his eyes tight, hands knotting into fists at his sides as he grits his teeth, panting through the nose, hips trembling with the effort of not jerking up into that tight grip around his cock. He is not going to— Not even… not even a… little, <em>he won’t</em>. H-he doesn’t want this! This- this pervert keeps doing… stuff… to him, keeps messing his head, and that’s why h-he sometimes… but this time he won’t give in, Leo tells himself, he won’t!</p><p>The man leans down, kissing lazily his neck. He pulls his hand out then but bringing Leo’s cock together past the elastic band both of his underwear and shorts, whipping it out and free in the chilled air, and the boy jostles with a gasp, both from the shock and the little rush of coldness across his throbbing flesh. “N-no, wait—”</p><p>Spirited background music plays as the protagonist darts around a crowd, jumping from out of the reach of armored guards chasing them while skipping over a trade cart, making the piles of watermelons crumble to the floor to the outrage of the seller. Some of the spectators laugh. Spreading out on the great chamber, a more or less full audience enjoys the movie, their faces faintly illuminated by the screen – and no one has any reason to glance away from their entertainment, really, to perhaps look towards the back rows. The couple sitting on the second to last row snuggle together, their heads bending together as they chuckle at the hero’s trickery. The woman sitting just a bit to the right of the center of the last row eats her popcorn calmly. On the other side, a group of friends giggles together, poking and slapping each other every time something funny happens.</p><p>No one is trying to parse out anything from outside the movie. They don’t hear a harsh breath turned moan midway, the faint squeak of a chair backrest being pushed to its limit, of sneakers digging their heels onto the rubber floor as their owner’s tense thighs tremble just like the rest of his body while fingers desperately clutch the armrests. The backrest of the seat directly ahead hides the so-far anonymous culprit from the waist down if someone ahead were to look back at him, only able to pick up a dark… shape… stooped over his lap... If you happened to be sitting nearby and paid particular attention during a quieter part of the movie, you might even catch the staled whimpers and bit-off moans as well as wet little slurps and pops born from the adult man sucking the young teenager boy. “Ple—,” he tries, voice gets caught, turns into a muted choke. “Don—”</p><p>But his pleas are ignored and he doesn’t dare move to try to push the man away when it’s taking all his effort to sit as still as he can. He tosses his head to his right in shame, the seat feeling cool to his flushed skin, as he feels a warm tongue swirling around him while a hand fondles with his balls still inside his shorts. The hand braced on his neck is gently caressing his jaw with a thumb. The snag on his throat doesn’t last, though – moans pour into his desperately closed mouth as lips close around his cockhead and he’s gently sucked, hand moving to wrap around the shaft smeared with saliva and pumping, a faint yet audible <em>shlick… shlick… shlick</em> under the rumble of the movie.</p><p>It is just t-too much. Leo never— he is helpless to this assault of pleasure, no strain or pain to help clear his mind, to help him focus. There’s still a faint voice, a memory of wanting to, needing to stop this before it goes too far because—something, danger? An urgency builds up the strength keeping his mouth closed but he <em>can’t think</em>, thoughts scrambling into meaningless noise every time a lithe tongue finds his slit and rubs it, teasing the little hole. He can’t—no, he- he <em>shouldn’t </em>move, shouldn’t… draw… attention, he <em>can’t</em> draw attention because-<em>otherwise-ah, a-ah, </em>he’s pressing down and down and down and <em>oh god</em>, his whole dick is drawn into hot wet softness, tongue brushing his underside as lips tightly wrap around him then pull back, <em>sucking</em>. The man is moving. Moving—doesn’t stop after one or two teases, no, he keeps moving and even from far away someone would be able to discern the head bobbing up and down over the boy’s lap, rhythmic, easy from good practice.</p><p>Leo’s legs involuntarily open, spreading like gates triggered by the increasing pressurized heat in his gut as the blonde continues to suckle on his cock. His breath breaks into short, stuttered gasps that he muffles by hastily slapping a hand over his mouth, the other gripping the back of the man’s vest right between the broad shoulder blades. His half-closed eyes can fuzzily discern the woman sitting just a seat away, so close that he can see her wavy hair falling over her shoulders, the straight line of her nose, the gleam of hoop earrings against the colorful light playing on her skin… If she were to cast just a casual glance to her left—</p><p>Leo heaves, breathless, resisting the urge to kick out his legs aware of the few inches between his knees and the front row. His feet are curled inside his sneakers, socks bunching up between his toes and the sound of the older man’s mouth sliding over him grows even sloppier with the gushes of precum, and Leo whimpers, legs trembling and a sweat-slippery hand struggling to stay pressed over his mouth, vision fluttering. <em>You’ re—you’re going to make me—</em></p><p>Sensation explodes, and the build-up of heat on his lower stomach suddenly spurts up his cock and he’s coming, a spray of thick ropes inside the blond man’s mouth who pushes down, <em>sucking</em>, swallowing eagerly, Leo’s eyes fluttering with his head turned to the ceiling even though he can’t see anything, he can’t see- he’s <em>coming</em>, back pressing against the backrest in a fistful of tenseness with every squeeze of his balls, feet digging at the floor.</p><p><em>“I always wanted to be a knight,”</em> the protagonist says on the screen.</p><p>There’s some warm chuckle, the deep voice of a famous actor speaking. <em>“Then what are you waiting for, boy? You have a long road ahead until you can even dream of speaking with the Queen.”</em></p><p>His body gives out, sinking limply on the seat as his hands go wilt from their tight grip. His head has lolled to the side, printing a damp profile of his face on the soft fabric. Pleasurable shocks run through his body as his cock is licked slowly, tongue twisting and almost caressing the almost unbearably oversensitive skin, scooping up any remaining drops before the older man finally retreats, dragging one last suckle to then let his softening cock slip free.</p><p>Leo cannot move an inch even when he feels himself being tucked back into his pants and underwear before a damp kiss is pressed on his neck. The man calmly settles back on his seat, and he can see from the corner of his eyes as he turns his head towards the movie as if nothing out of ordinary happened.</p><p>Feeling the adrenaline of his orgasm waning, the boy closes his eyes and tries to recover his breath quietly.</p><p>-</p><p>Overheated flesh slowly pulsates between his cheeks, the contact is smooth through the condom, with an open zipper digging in his flesh. The boy draws deep breaths as he resists the desire to shift or squirm, knowing those heavy hands hold his hips hostage even though they occasionally slide under his t-shirt, squeezing his soft belly or brushing over his chest as the man nuzzles his temple and nibbles lazily on his ear, causing Leo’s skin to fill with goosebumps.</p><p>The spot of fabric under his balls is damp with his pre fluids from where that massive cockhead is tucked inside his shorts, that were lowered just enough for this to be possible.</p><p>He catches his nipples between calloused fingers pads, rolling them gently and forcing his breath out in a shaky little moan that turns into a tiny, silent gasp as he leisurely grinds up between his cheeks, hard flesh dragging across his hole in the strangest tease. With his head resting over his shoulder and heated breaths over his ear, Leo is glued almost entirely to the man, his legs spread apart at each side of his lap while a broad chest steadily swells against his back. Leo's unfocused gaze lingers on the screen and yet he has no idea what is happening. Small moans pour into his closed mouth, an occasional whine as those hips slowly starting to roll and buck, working a slicked rhythm against him. Leo never really… thought… of his n-nipples, never considered them as a sensitive part of him that could be used to make him feel… but the man seems intent on amending that, those rough fingers circling and steaking and giving tantalizing little strokes, drawing previously unknown nerve endings to a peak of sensitivity.</p><p>Leo is panting softly already, gripping at his wide hips as they push against him, tiny pleas starting to rise on his lips. His eyes dart around again as his heart starts to pound – the darkness cast over the audience is a bit heavier now as the movie progresses to a somber part, but he can still <em>see</em> the people closest to them even if with more undefined profiles, which mean they can still see <em>them</em>.</p><p>Just inches of his knees are the heads of a couple and an uncareful jerk would be all it would take to make them look over their shoulders and see—not much, he thinks the way their bodies are fitted together hides well enough what… what the man is doing… but Leo is still sitting on the lap of an adult old enough to be his father, which would certainly draw prolonged attention. And Leo – breathing quivering, a shudder rolls up his spine as those hands slip down and flex around his sides, seeming so huge, so <em>powerful</em> – doesn’t think it would be enough to… stop… him... Thinks he would still do it even under the shocked gaze of bystanders… So, Leo has… has to be careful, has to make sure no one knows. What’s about to happen. Right in the middle of this crowd, he'll... he'll... He draws a deep breath, eyes slipping shut. The man is throbbing more heavily, each swollen pulse subtly pushing at his cheeks, already so wide apart from each other. Leo can feel the muscles pressed against his back shifting, tensing—and Leo grasps at the wide shoulders at each side of him as his hips are pushed, his body lifted. The lubed slide of that latex-cloaked cock is heart-lurching prickle, and his shorts are dragged away, baring his entire ass to the cool air for a moment as the head smears a kiss of pre behind his balls back before it begins to drag in between his cheeks.</p><p>One flick of those hips and the tip is prodding straight at Leo’s hole, making his breath catch in his throat. The man got a big handful of his ass and he's dragging him down as he pushes up, grinding the teenager open who chokes back frantic little noises, feeling himself stretching out to contain so much. <em>He's just</em>... trembling against a steadily moving chest, eyes watering a hint, Leo forces himself to relax—and with a lurch, the head slips in.</p><p>In the great room, one or two people heard a tiny squeal and although a bit strange, considering nothing surprising is happening in the story, no one feels curious enough to investigate.</p><p>The man lets out a soft sigh, mouthing the sensitive skin behind his ear as he forces the boy to take more and more in smooth, rolling bucks, not interested in giving him time to recover. Leo’s breath is hot and noisy in his ears as he feels the thick and hot volume slipping deep into his belly, stretching his bowels wide with every inch until finally, it levers through some deep part of Leo as the blonde man plants the teenager butt tight into his lap. The boy’s eyes squeeze closed and his mouth hangs open as he shakily pants, holding back whimpers with great difficulty. H-he’s just so… so big! Leo lost count of how many times he had this man pounding at him, using him without pause or mercy, and yet his ass doesn’t seem capable of getting used to the <em>sheer</em> size of this cock, always making him feel like he’s just one rough thrust away from splitting in half.</p><p>Fingers dug into his sides, and then those hips surge up, hilted, yet grinding circles as if trying to push deeper still. In an instant, the feeling of hot flesh rubbing his prostate have him twisting to press his face against the man’s neck, chest heaving and trembling with the effort of holding back cries of pleasure, hands desperately gripping his arms as his feet squirm against the side of the man’s calves, skin bristled under his clothes. His thoughts of resisting from when he first stepped into this room are nothing but dust now… and while Leo burns still with instinctual shame of what he’s doing – what he’s letting someone <em>do</em> to him, <em>right</em> in the middle of a crowded movie theater –, his body reacts keenly, cock straining against his shorts and tenting the fabric, spilling pre inside his stuffy boxers.</p><p>Heavy puffs of warm air run through the boy's hair as the blond man throbs thick inside him. The chest behind him push forward, hips dragging back as muscular arms pin Leo tight and heave him up and off a few inches before planting him solidly against the man’s lap again. Throat straining against the moans climbing up from his chest, Leo is quivering, suffocating. It's a hot, slick mess between them, every gentle press glazing his insides with lube. He drags him down into the lazy rolls of his hips, hot cockhead grinding into his guts before easing back, drawing Leo up into the air for a single, shuddering instant of relief before another tormenting descent. From the outside, Leo prays there is little noticeable motion as those viciously heavy inches drags out of him only to shove in again, to force another shockwave through him from the cruel font of pleasure that is being fucked by this person — he can <em>hear</em> people trading whispers at his left; the woman signing at something happening on the movie. They are so <em>damn close</em>… If Leo were to stretch his arms just a bit, he- he could brush against someone sitting beside them while- while they are…  — what would they <em>see</em>? The thought swims inside the lightness filling his head. Does he look... pathetic like this, face flushed with his mouth hanging open, eyes fluttering at each thrust? Does he look like he can barely keep from crying out, fearing that he’s going to split right up the middle? An overwhelmed little boy, trying not to break down from being used this good?</p><p>Does he look like he came here because he wanted?</p><p>The wash of shame bites, makes him feel the pleasure like acid running through his veins, wrecks thoughts of right and wrong. Face buried against the man’s neck, misting his skin as he smothers the pitiful strangled moans that manage to escape the desperate clamp of his jaw, clinging to his arms. The screen is growing loud – ongoing warfare, and the audience gasps and exclaims, hisses as the protagonists face the enemy. And Leo is long past the point of thinking, and it’s only the inescapable awareness of all the eyes around them, liable of flicking over them at any time, that stops him from crying out his pleasure to all room to hear—and yet his mouth slips open, a silent pant or gasp wrenching from him as the hard shallow thrusts turn to avid, rolling grinds, barely pulling from his drenched hole before shoving in tight, working that very last half an inch through the boy as his full length throbs dangerously deep inside his belly. And his grip grows more frantic in their tightness, his entire body slowly drawing tenser under those guiding hands as the great and terrible heat building in his belly threatens to burst.</p><p>A hand grabs his jaw and tugs it up and a panting mouth presses against him, eager and demanding, and the boy can’t do anything but open his mouth with a shudder and let his tongue slip inside, touching and twisting all slicked with saliva with a breath of a moan as one last thrust ram inside. Warmth blooms in Leo’s loins, and his shoulders are pushing against the man, feet surging up to dig against his lap as his thighs clamp shut a second before he plasters his boxers with seed, at the same time the hefty balls squeezed against his cheeks seize, and then warmth spreads through every inch of him, the thin latex barrier doing nothing to ease off the sheer <em>heat</em> flooding his ass, seeping along his skin as the man grinds and grinds around, pumping load after load.</p><p>He drinks his every quivering, throaty moan right off him, wet open mouths sliding together in a sloppy, hungry kiss - Leo's second in his entire life - his groans of pleasure standing out to Leo's ears over the raucous of the battle reaching its peak on the screen.</p><p>-</p><p>The movie is just a blur of color and shapes, making for little more than a background to the only two people on the audience not paying attention, too busy trying to recover their breath quietly while basking in a quiet afterglow. Leo might as well be a mass of molten lead sprawled over the blond man, sweltering in their private pocket of hot air, limp, unable even to lift his head from his shoulder.</p><p>The boy gives a little whimper, shivering, as he’s lifted from that slowly softening cock that slurp quite noisily before he’s gently lowered once again. This time flesh to flesh with the condom gone, bared damp skin meeting his ass slicked with lube and sharing warmth and subtly quivering relaxation.</p><p>And right now, the young teenager couldn't possibly want anything more in the world than to just lie here, letting the man’s chest move him gently as he settles back on the seat, panting and stroking slowly over his skin.</p><p>He relaxes under him and they both sit in shared tired satisfaction through the rest of the movie, quietly breathing together.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys, feel free to visit me in my <a href="https://whitesheepwrites.tumblr.com">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>